


This Love(Came Back to Me)

by impalagirl, wilddragonflying



Series: Roleplays [59]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - A/B/O, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Heat Sex, M/M, Mates, Mating Bonds, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Bucky Barnes, Omega Steve Rogers, Omega Verse, Omega/Omega Relationship, Society is weird, What else is new, Winter Soldier!Bucky, a/b/o dynamics, and bigoted, fade-to-black sex, implied sex, it's not exactly homosexuality that's illegal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-11-05 15:30:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 28,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11016294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impalagirl/pseuds/impalagirl, https://archiveofourown.org/users/wilddragonflying/pseuds/wilddragonflying
Summary: "Oh great," Steve mutters to himself, watching Dick Jonas strut across the schoolyard. "Guess who just presented as an alpha?" They’re barely past the first month and a half of the school year, and already half of the class has presented. There has already been several fights between newly-presented alphas that the teachers have had to break up, and Steve is beyond sick of it. He knows he'll probably be an omega, but he’s in no hurry to find out; once omegas present, they tend to be fawned and fought over, but Steve really doesn't want to find out if he’s going to be the exception to that rule.





	This Love(Came Back to Me)

"Oh great," Steve mutters to himself, watching Dick Jonas strut across the schoolyard. "Guess who just presented as an alpha?" They’re barely past the first month and a half of the school year, and already half of the class has presented. There has already been several fights between newly-presented alphas that the teachers have had to break up, and Steve is beyond sick of it. He knows he'll probably be an omega, but he’s in no hurry to find out; once omegas present, they tend to be fawned and fought over, but Steve really doesn't want to find out if he’s going to be the exception to that rule.

"I really hoped he'd be an omega," Bucky mutters darkly. "It would have served him right. Asshole."

"Ugh, it really would have," Steve agrees. "But his family is mostly alphas, apparently; heard him bragging about it the other day."

" _Mostly alphas_ ," Bucky repeats with a grimace. "What does that make the omega who gave birth to him? A spare part?"

Steve shrugs. "Maybe he thinks so. Wouldn't be exactly uncommon, despite the fact that omegas are the only reason any of us are even alive."

Bucky glances at him sidelong. "Hit a nerve there, pal?"

Steve sighs, picking at his sandwich. "It's just - I'm pretty sure I'm going to be an omega," he confesses. "And I hate thinking that whoever I end up mating with is going to be someone like him."

"It won't be," Bucky bites out. "You wouldn't go near an alpha like that."

"Yeah, well, I'd hope so," Steve mutters. An uneasy silence falls between them, and Steve breaks it after a moment. "What about you? What do you think you'll present as?"

"An alpha," Bucky says. "I really hope so."

Steve glances at Bucky speculatively. "Yeah? Why?"

Bucky grins. "Because I want to mate with an omega, of course," he says.

Steve snorts. "Of course," he says dryly, rolling his eyes.

"What?" Bucky asks, knocking their shoulders together with a grin.

Steve just looks at Bucky with a raised eyebrow. "Seriously, you only want to be an alpha to mate with an omega. Could you _sound_ any more like a presenting knothead?"

Bucky rolls his eyes. "That's not what I mean," he says. "I mean, a _specific_ omega."

Steve's other eyebrow joins its twin. "Really? You’ve already got one picked out?" he asks, trying to ignore the ache in his chest at the thought. It's probably just heartburn. 

Bucky gives him an odd look. "Don't you already have your eye on an alpha?"

Steve shrugs. "Not really," he lies.

"Oh," Bucky says. He shrugs. "Well, it's probably not a big deal. Who ever mates with their childhood crush anyway, right?"

* * *

Bucky presents exactly a week after Steve does. It's expected, and he's actually a little late; it's normal for the sudden shift in hormones to trigger a similar shift in family members and close friends of the same age. He stays home from school for a few days, shivering and shaking, whining for something that he can't have, not ever, and when it's over he's exhausted, completely drained for more than one reason.

His mother tells him he can stay home one more day, and when she suggests letting Steve visit after school he can't find the strength to say no. Still, he spends most of the day sleeping, and when his bedroom door creaks open and wakes him, he's disoriented enough to forget what's coming. "Mom?"

Bucky's room hasn't completely aired out, and Steve has to take a moment to brace himself against the assault on his senses. "Nah, just me," he says. "Heard you finally caught up."

"Yeah," Bucky croaks. He's facing away from Steve, and he's grateful for it as he curls even further in on himself. "You didn't have to come."

"Of course I did," Steve says, sitting on the edge of the bed - there's not many other places to sit. "You came when I finished."

"It's different," Bucky insists quietly.

"How so?" Steve pushes. 

Bucky shakes his head, sniffles a little and feels pathetic for it. "Doesn't matter."

Steve sighs, shifting so that he can pull the covers over himself as well, scooting up close to Bucky. "Sure it does; you're upset."

Bucky sighs, too. "It's just," he says. "I'm just disappointed."

Steve lays one arm across Bucky's ribs, hugging himself to Bucky's back. "Yeah?" he encourages. 

Bucky huffs, frustrated. "You know I wanted to be an alpha."

"Because of the omega you wanted to mate with," Steve remembers, only slightly bitter. 

"I know it's dumb," Bucky says, defensive. "People don't mate with their childhood crush. But some people do mate with their high school sweetheart. I thought, if I presented as an alpha, I'd have time to..."

Steve sighs again. "For what it's worth," he murmurs, "I wish you'd been an alpha, too."

Bucky's heart seizes in his chest. "Why?"

Steve would snort if it wouldn't get germs all over the back of Bucky's neck. "Take a wild guess."

"Nah," Bucky says, wheezes really. "Nah, Stevie, 'cause you _said_ you didn't want anyone."

"Yeah, well, I lied," Steve says. 

Bucky's next breath comes out more like a sob. "Steve. Oh god, I'm sorry."

"Don't," Steve says fiercely. "Just - don't say that. We'll figure this out, Buck."

"I wanted to court you," Bucky admits, pained. "I wanted you to be mine."

Steve bites his lip nearly hard enough to bleed as he fumbles for Bucky's hand under the blanket, giving it a squeeze. "I wanted that, too," he confesses in a whisper. 

Bucky squeezes back hard, hates himself for pressing back into Steve's warmth just a little. "What are we gonna do?" he asks.

"I vote we take a nap right now," Steve answers. 

That's not nearly enough, but it's more than Bucky can ever ask for, now. He nods, his eyes already closed. "Don't go," he whispers. "Please."

"I'm not going anywhere," Steve vows. "Not ever."

* * *

They don't talk about it after that. Steve keeps his word, they're still friends, but that's all they are. It's not safe for them to risk trying to be anything more, and it wouldn't work out anyway; omegas are meant to be with alphas, and they're still young, they know they'll find someone else eventually. That doesn't mean they like it, though.

They spend the next couple of years skirting around each other, alternately encouraging each other to take an interest in this or that alpha and not talking about the future at all. It's tense and it's weird sometimes, but they've been best friends pretty much since birth; nothing can change that. Until, of course, everything changes.

Bucky has a standing invitation to the Rogers' house to come over whenever he wants, which means he's there pretty much every other day and doesn't have to knock before he lets himself in. Today, he's skipped his paper round and come straight from school because Steve stayed home, and that can only mean one thing: he's sick. Mrs Rogers waves him up the stairs with barely a second glance, fixing her hair in the hall mirror before she leaves for her shift at the hospital, and Bucky hears the door slam behind her before he even makes it to the top of the stairs.

He lets himself into Steve's room just as casually as he'd let himself into the house, and almost immediately regrets it. "Fuck," he gasps, gripping the door as his knees buckle. "Your mom didn't tell me you were in _heat_."

"She just got over a cold," Steve says miserably from where he's lying on his bed with only a hand towel draped over his naughty bits. "Her nose is still a bit stuffed. I didn't tell her."

" _Why?_ " Bucky wheezes. "She let me in!"

"Because you're the only one who ever visits, and the room is pretty good at trapping the scent," Steve says. "Besides, everyone knows I'm an omega, and no stranger is gonna get past beady-eyed Beady down the hall."

"Steve," Bucky breathes, and the next thing he knows, he's on his knees next to the bed, his forehead pressed to Steve's arm. He can already feel the heat burning across the back of his own neck, knows it won't be long before he's soaking through his pants. "God, Steve."

Steve whines softly. "Bucky," he groans. "You - you gonna stay?"

"Wanna," Bucky breathes, his hand already reaching for the towel still covering Steve. "Wanna see you. Touch you."

Steve moans at the thought of that, and he beats Bucky to the towel. 

* * *

Despite the fact that neither of them has a knot, they manage to burn through both of their heats in a matter of hours. It's not too unusual, teenagers' heats don't last as long as adults' though they do come more often, but even so, they're pretty pleased with themselves when they can finally stand to take their hands off each other. "So," Bucky says at last, his breathing still just a little too quick. "That was... incredible."

Steve laughs breathlessly. "Understatement of the year," he chuckles. 

Bucky makes a sound that's half laugh, half groan, and flings an arm over his eyes. "Please tell me that wasn't just the heat."

Steve chuckles again. "No, I - I don't think so," he says, almost shyly. 

"So you--" Bucky turns to Steve, stops just shy of reaching for him. "You want..?"

"Yeah," Steve answers, before Bucky's even finished his sentence. "I want."

"It's illegal," Bucky says, as if they both need reminding. "We'd have to hide always. And what if you find an alpha?"

"What if you do?" Steve counters. "I don't care about hiding, and we don't know the future. But right now, you're what makes me happy, and I want to hold onto that."

"Me too," Bucky says, and maybe it really is that simple. He does reach for Steve then, finally pulls him into his arms. "God, Stevie, I don't ever want to let you go."

"Good," Steve says fiercely, pressing in closer. 

* * *

"Steve?" Bucky calls when he gets home from work, heading through to the bedroom without waiting for an answer. Nothing much has changed in the intervening years; they're still together, and it's still illegal, and Bucky still rushes to Steve's side whenever he's feeling under the weather. But Steve's mom is dead and so is Bucky's dad, and Bucky made sure that Steve moved in with him as soon as they could afford it. It's not something he's ever regretted, and he remembers why when he sees Steve, sitting up in bed with eyes brighter than they've been in days. He hesitates in the doorway, a soft smile on his face. "Hey beautiful. Feeling better?"

"I'll feel even better when you get over here," Steve says with a grin. 

Bucky grins back and obliges, crawling onto the bed to take Steve into his arms. "How was your day?"

"Boring," Steve sighs, tucking himself in closer to Bucky's chest. "Yours?"

"Eventful," Bucky says. "Evans has been making eyes at me again."

Steve makes a face. "Of course. You let him down easy?"

"Yeah," Bucky sighs, with a kiss to the crown of Steve's head. "Just told him that I wasn't interested, and then _Smith_ told him that I already had an omega back home."

"Oh for God's sake," Steve groans. 

"Well," Bucky says, "he's not exactly wrong."

"No, he's not," Steve admits, shifting into a more comfortable position and accidentally elbowing Bucky in the stomach while doing so. "Oops, sorry."

"It's fine," Bucky says, shifting slightly. "I didn't say anything either way, obviously. But it shut Evans up, so I'm not complaining."

"Good," Steve says. He's still not entirely comfortable with the way they neither confirm nor deny most people's assumption that Bucky's an alpha, but it's better than the alternative. "What about the rest of your day?"

"Standard," Bucky says. "Except... I got a letter today."

Steve frowns, twisting around to look at Bucky. "A letter?"

"Yeah," Bucky says, "I'm being called up."

Steve's breath catches in his chest, and he has to swallow audibly before he can ask, "When?"

"Soon," Bucky says. "Few days."

"Shit," Steve swears. "That's not a lot of notice."

"It's more than I was expecting," Bucky admits. "Sounds like they really need the men out there."

Steve sighs. "From what I've been hearing, you're right," he agrees, albeit reluctantly. 

Bucky tightens his arms around Steve just a little. "It'll be okay," he says. "I'll be home before you know it."

Steve's smile is more than a little sad. "You know it won't be that easy."

"It could be," Bucky says. "The war can't last forever."

"No, but people are saying it's not gonna be a quick war, either," Steve counters. 

"Then what do you want?" Bucky asks, and he's not challenging or aggressive; just curious. "You don't have to wait for me."

"I want you to not have to leave, I want to go with you, I want this war to be over," Steve says, frustrated. "I just - I don't want us to be separated. I don't _have_ to wait for you, but Buck - it's been years now. What I feel for you, it's not going anywhere."

"It's not going anywhere for me either, idiot," Bucky says affectionately. "But you can't come with me, and you know I'll do everything I can to come back to you."

"Yeah, I know," Steve sighs. "Doesn't change the fact I wish you didn't have to go."

"I know," Bucky says, kissing Steve again. "I know."

* * *

As it turns out, being at war is nowhere near as simple as Bucky hoped. Being at war all by itself is _horrible_ , but then Bucky and his entire unit get kidnapped and Bucky himself spends endless days on a table in a lab being poked and prodded and _god knows_ what else, and then _Steve_ shows up looking like a Greek God and the entire world explodes around them. Bucky barely processes any of this on the long walk back to camp, too exhausted and shaken up to focus on anything but putting one foot in front of the other, and then when they make it he's swept into the medical tent almost immediately, and Steve is swept in the opposite direction on a tide of congratulations and curses alike.

Later, much later, Bucky wakes to the sound of hushed voices outside the tent. They're too quiet and he's too out of it to hear properly, but he knows it's Steve and he can _smell_ his companion. They go quiet after a while, and Bucky is just starting to think that they've walked away when the flap opens and Steve ducks in. Christ, he has to _duck_ now. Bucky struggles to sit up, meet Steve's gaze head-on. "She sounds nice."

"She is," Steve agrees. "She thinks I'm an idiot, though," he adds with a slight grin. "How are you feeling?"

"Like shit," Bucky says. "Maybe she thinks you're an idiot because you are one."

Steve groans. "I know, I know; I just had every superior officer yelling at me at once."

Bucky sighs, fixes Steve with a shrewd look. "Do I even want to ask?"

Steve shrugs, expression sheepish. "It was a lot of yelling, but I'm not actually in trouble. Not trouble that'll get me punished, at any rate."

"That's not really what I meant," Bucky says.

Steve's expression betrays his confusion. "What did you mean?"

"I mean, what the hell?" Bucky demands. "What happened to you? What were you _thinking?_ "

"I was thinking I had a way to have your back!" Steve retorts before explaining Erskine's experiment. "What happened, I don't have _any_ illnesses, there's nothing wrong with me anymore!"

"Steve," Bucky sighs, reaching out. "You could have _died_ , if not during the experiment then coming after me like that."

"They were going to leave you there," Steve says stubbornly. "You'd have been dead either way. This way you had a chance."

"And I'm grateful," Bucky says, letting his hand fall onto the bed. "I just wish you hadn't been in danger."

"I don't regret it," Steve tells him. "I'd do it all over again if it meant I had a shot at saving you."

Bucky sighs, nods. "Well," he says, "how about that alpha, huh?"

"Who, Peggy? She's nice," Steve says thoughtfully. 

"Yeah, I bet she is."

Steve looks at Bucky in surprise. "Are you - jealous?"

"What?" Bucky asks. "No."

"That was a suspiciously fast answer," Steve informs him. 

Bucky huffs. "We talked about it, didn't we?" he asks. "And I know we said-- what we said. But. Things change, don't they?"

"Not this," Steve says firmly. "Peggy's nice, but I'm not interested in her that way, Buck."

Bucky doesn't realise he's been holding his breath until it rushes past his lips. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," Steve says, moving closer so he can take Bucky's hand in his to give it a squeeze. 

Bucky squeezes back, holds on like he can't bear to let go. "They know I'm an omega here," he says. "I couldn't lie on my forms, and there isn't exactly room for privacy out here. 'Course," he adds, "you look more like an alpha than I do now."

"They knew I was an omega before I went in, but - well, I'm still an omega, I definitely don't have the knot, but it's been several months. I haven't had a heat yet, and I should have had at least one," Steve says. "The scientists aren't sure what to make of that."

"Oh," Bucky says, his eyes wide. "Are you not on suppressants?"

"I was in training, before I got selected for the serum," Steve answers. "But now... The doctors think the serum may have screwed that up."

"So no more heats," Bucky says. He doesn't know why that thought makes him sad; it's not like he could have ever gotten Steve pregnant, anyway.

"Or they're incredibly rare," Steve says. "Or maybe something will trigger them. We don't know." Steve hasn't had any sex since Bucky left, maybe if they share a heat... But it's better to be prepared for the worst.

"Okay," Bucky says, squeezing Steve's hand again. "Well, I won't be having one either until we get home. I don't know what they did to me back there, but they didn't take me off the suppressants. I guess a heat would have been too messy for them."

Steve's expression softens. "I'm sorry I couldn't get there faster," he says quietly. "But I'm not about to let Hydra get away with what they did to you."

Bucky's gaze melts into something fond and exasperated all at once. "What are you going to do?"

"Phillips is talking about putting me in charge of a team dedicated specifically to wiping Hydra off the map," Steve explains. "I'm going to take him up on that offer."

"Jesus," Bucky breathes, "okay."

"It's gonna be dangerous, but I can't just leave," Steve says, hoping Bucky will understand. 

"Yeah," Bucky says. "I get it."

Steve smiles, grateful, and gives Bucky's hand another squeeze. "But for right now, I just want to stay here," he says. "If that's all right with you?"

Bucky grins. “Guess it’ll have to be.”

* * *

When it comes up again a few weeks later, Bucky agrees to go with Steve, no hesitation. He's not back to himself yet, not a hundred percent, but he's well enough to hold a gun and watch Steve's back, and really that's all he wants to do. Steve makes him his second-in-command, a fact that doesn't sit too well with the others on the team, mostly alphas, but it does mean they get to share a tent. Bucky's never going to complain about that.

They're really careful for the first few weeks that they're on the road with the other Howlies, but they've been apart for far too long, and heats or no, they both have needs. They wait until they're certain that everyone else is asleep, and they're quiet as can be, but luck is not on their side tonight. Bucky is just opening their tent to go answer a call of nature when he spots two figures near the fire. It's Dum Dum and Falsworth, presumably back from answering a call of their own, and they catch sight of Bucky before he has time to react.

"Well," Falsworth says, grinning. "This explains a lot."

Dum Dum's grin is even wider, if possible. "Hell, can't say that I blame you," he adds. 

"Excuse me?" Bucky demands.

"Gets lonely, doesn't it," Falsworth says. "We have to get what we can where we can."

"You and Cap wanna fuck around, ain't none of our business," Dum Dum says. "Just make sure you let those of us trying to sleep rest."

"We were quiet!" Bucky snaps, and then falters. "I mean-- I--"

"Come on, Sergeant," Falsworth says, surprisingly gentle. "You don't think we give a damn what the law says, do you? Alphas do it all the time; why not omegas? We know that neither of you are stupid enough to want it to last beyond the war."

"Gotta find comfort where ya can," Dum Dum agrees. 

"Right," Bucky says slowly. "Thanks, I think."

Falsworth flashes him a grin. "Well, we'll be on our way. Goodnight, Sarge." He ducks his head so he can better see into the tent and gives Steve a salute. "Nice seeing you, Captain."

Steve flushes an even brighter red than what he'd been from overhearing their conversation while hunting down his underwear, and manages to stammer out, "Good night, Falsworth, Dum Dum."

Bucky closes the tent again as soon as they're gone, the need to pee long forgotten. "Oh my god," he says, "are you okay?"

"Embarrassed as hell," Steve mutters, burying his face in his hands. "What the hell just happened?"

"Well," Bucky says, "I think they think we're fucking. _Just_ fucking."

Steve bites his lip. "I heard that," he admits. "But... I don't think we should try to convince them otherwise."

"No," Bucky agrees. "If they're not going to give us shit for it, we shouldn't rock the boat."

Steve sighs, making sure the tent flap is closed before he pulls Bucky into his arms. "I wish that wasn't the best option," he murmurs. 

"It's okay," Bucky says, nosing gently against Steve's cheek. "We knew going into this that it'd always be a secret. At least now we don't have to hide completely."

"If we weren't in the middle of a war, I'd say it's better than Brooklyn," Steve agrees, turning his head to capture Bucky's lips in a kiss. 

"Our old cover ain't gonna work when we get back," Bucky says when they break apart. "No one's gonna believe I'm your alpha anymore."

"No," Steve replies. "But they might believe I'm yours, if we move to a different part of the city."

"Would you want that?" Bucky asks, his lips against Steve's ear now. "For everyone to think I'm your omega?"

Steve smiles, nods. "Yeah. Got a nice ring to it."

Bucky smiles too. "It does, doesn't it?"

* * *

"Oh God," Bucky moans, several months later in the dead of night, the Howlies fast asleep in their own tents trying to prepare for what's to come. He tugs on Steve's hair until he looks up from between his legs, gives him a breathless smile. "Get up here, I need to kiss you."

Steve grins. "Even with where my mouth has been?" he asks teasingly, even as he complies with Bucky's demand. 

"Especially with where your mouth has been," Bucky groans against the mouth in question, hitching his legs around Steve's waist. "God, I want you."

Steve rolls his hips, groaning at the friction. "You've got me," he promises. "For as long as you'll have me."

"Always," Bucky pants. "I'll always want you; always need you."

Steve has no answer but to kiss Bucky again, biting into it desperately. A thought occurs - not for the first time - but for once, Steve gives voice to it. "Mark me."

Bucky shudders beneath Steve, and starts trailing his lips down Steve's throat, searching. "Fuck," he breathes. "Fuck, yes."

Steve mirrors the movement, and when his lips find Bucky's pulse, he begs, "Let me mark you."

"Yeah," Bucky sighs, his teeth grazing Steve's shoulder now. " _Steve_."

Steve lets his own teeth come into play, starting to worry at the junction of Bucky's neck and shoulder. " _Bucky,_ " he moans. "God, you - do it, please."

Bucky doesn't need to be told twice: he sinks his teeth into Steve's shoulder with a moan, and he's pretty sure he's imagining the way his whole body reacts when he breaks the skin, but he can't bring himself to care. When Steve bites him in return, he can't bring himself to think about much of anything.

* * *

Steve's a bundle of nerves the whole time they're waiting for their window, but he sucks it up and does his best to be the leader the Howlies need for this all-important mission.

He does a pretty good job of it, too, until Bucky's clinging to that railing as the wind whips past, and when the railing breaks and Bucky falls, Steve can't scream for the fear and panic clogging his throat. He honestly has no idea how he finishes the mission; he doesn't remember much until he's in the bombed-out bar, downing alcohol like it's water - which it very well might be, for all the effect it's having on him. The cloak of fear that's been suffocating him for the past couple of days finally lifts, enough that he can hear Peggy's footsteps approaching. He doesn't say anything for a moment, and then, "It's my fault."

"No it isn't," Peggy says, approaching with caution. "There's nothing you could have done."

"You had to have read the report," Steve snaps. "You _know_ that's not true."

"I have," Peggy says, "and it is true. You did everything you could, Steve. He wouldn't want you to beat yourself up like this."

"I could've grabbed him, if I'd reached out a little further."

"No," Peggy says. "If you'd reached out a little further, you'd have fallen with him."

"That would've been better than this!"

"Steve," Peggy barks. " _No_. What do you think Bucky would say, if he could hear you talking like this?"

"It doesn't matter because he's _dead!_ " Steve snarls. "He's dead, and I want Schmidt's head on a pike."

"Steve," Peggy says softly, finally moving to Steve's side so that she can lay a hand on his shoulder. "You'll get it, but you can't go near him like this."

"If I'm not like this then I'm a blubbering mess, and no use to anyone," Steve says bluntly. "I don't give a single solitary rat's behind about the rest of the war anymore, Peggy. I want Schmidt. So either tell me Zola talked, sit down and drink in silence, or leave me alone."

But Peggy does none of those things. Instead, she wraps her arms around him, pulls him in close. "You're not getting rid of me that easily," she murmurs.

Steve holds out for another moment, but then he crumbles, all but collapsing against Peggy as he returns the embrace, holding on for dear life. He manages to choke back the majority of his sobs, but he can't help the tears that spill over his cheeks.

"I know," Peggy soothes, stroking Steve's hair. "I know, love. It's okay."

"It's not," Steve whispers hoarsely. "It's not, he's - he's _gone,_ Pegs."

"I know," Peggy says again, her voice thick. "But he loved you, Steve, he loved you so much."

Steve freezes at that, breath hitching. "Peggy - "

Peggy doesn't falter. "It's all right," she says. "I know, and I don't care. He loved you, and wherever he is now, he knows how much you love him."

And that is the straw that breaks the camel's back. 

* * *

Steve all but turns into an automaton from one of those sci-fi novels Bucky had liked to read over the next few days; he does little but eat, sleep restlessly, and plan the attack on Schmidt's base, an overwhelming numbness taking hold of him, mind and body. 

When the time comes, Steve doesn't get Schmidt's head on a pike, but he gets to witness the man being sucked into the empty vacuum of space, and that's almost as good. He speaks with Peggy over the radio, but it's more to comfort her than himself; he knows where he's going. He's going to catch up to Bucky. 

And until the last few moments, when he is all but unconscious, Steve feels nothing but contentment. 

But he falls into the icy darkness with a phantom scream caught in his throat, and fear burning in his chest. 

* * *

Steve wakes in a room two years before he left for the war, and he runs. He makes it a good distance, but not far enough, and is taken back to that wrongful room, has reality explained to him, and manages to save his freakout until he's as alone as can be, though he suspects there are cameras in the room the too-kind assistant had shown him to. He's rather proud of how quickly he regains control over himself, almost as though there's some outside force calming him. 

That force comes - thankfully - back into play again over the next few weeks, seemingly whenever he's closest to completely losing his shit, which happens frequently when he finds out that there is an _extraterrestrial being_ trying to invade the Earth with an _army_ of more extraterrestrial beings. Honestly, if this is the kind of thing that is going to be the norm, Steve almost wants to go back into the ice, because there is no way he's equipped to handle goddamned _aliens._

He makes it through, somehow, and then throws himself into the relief and rebuilding efforts; it's a move that Fury and the rest of SHIELD doesn't exactly approve of, but Steve doesn't really care that much what they think. He needs something more to do besides fighting, now that he's woken in an entirely new century, with a mating mark that still hasn't healed. SHIELD hasn't said anything about it, and Steve hasn't had time to poke around with the new technology, to catch up with the news - what with, you know, the whole aliens-invading thing - so when, after his mark is exposed and caught on a news camera, a reporter asks who he mated(which Steve declines to answer, thoughts of Bucky too hurtful still to entertain for long) and then asks if he's aware of the new legislation regarding the legal status of same-orientation marriages, Steve is completely blindsided.

"I'm sorry, I don't - I haven't had time to catch up on the news. What are you talking about?" he asks, a little desperately, not sure if he's hoping he heard her wrong or right.

"The law was changed last year," the reporter explains. "Alphas are allowed to mate with alphas now, and the same goes for omegas."

Steve goes still, his eyes widening for a moment before his expression turns almost harsh. "You better not be joking," he says, forgetting for a moment that he's talking to a member of the press, someone who most definitely will be reporting on his behavior and reactions. 

The reporter raises an eyebrow. "Captain, I can assure you that I am not," she says. "Once it was accepted that people of the same orientation were physically capable of forming the mating bond, it was only a matter of time before it was made legal for them to do so."

The blood drains from Steve's face. "I'm sorry, I - I can't answer that question right now," he stammers. 

The reporter actually looks excited by Steve's refusal, and is clearly about to soldier on with another question before Pepper Potts appears at his side and takes his elbow. "I think Captain Rogers has answered more than enough questions for today, thank you."

The reporter is clearly disappointed, but Steve couldn't care less at the moment. He lets Pepper lead him away, and once they're out of the public eye, he turns to her and demands, "Is it true? Can omegas mate?"

"Yes," Pepper says. "It's still unconventional and there are a lot of people who don't think they _should_ , but they certainly _can_."

"Holy shit," Steve says weakly. "That's - Oh God. That actually explains a lot."

"About what?" Pepper asks gently.

Steve hesitates, then pulls down the collar of his shirt to reveal the mark on his neck - the one Bucky put on him seventy years ago. "This."

"Oh my god," Pepper breathes. "Is that--? Barnes. Right? It was Barnes."

"Yeah," Steve says dully. 

"Oh god. Oh Steve, I'm so sorry."

"Yeah," Steve says, his chest feeling more hollow than it has since Bucky fell. "Me, too."

* * *

The first time the Asset feels it, he's being debriefed after a mission. A short, sharp, bright glimmer of _something_ the Asset doesn't even know how to name; he's never felt anything like it before. It's deeply unsettling, but the Asset doesn't have any time to process or react; a few moments later he's being ushered back into the cryo chamber, and until nothingness creeps in the only thing he can feel is the cold.

The next time they break him out, he knows instantly that very little time has passed; he recognises the technicians that greet him when he opens his eyes. The strange feeling hasn't left him; it's still there, an almost-tangible sensation niggling in the back of his mind. He supposes he should mention it, he learned the hard way a long time ago that he must _always_ report it when his function is even slightly impaired, but the thing is, he doesn't have the words to describe it. If the Asset has ever felt this way before, it has long been burnt out of his memory.

By the time the mission is over, though, it's bothering him. He wasn't able to complete his task with his usual brutal efficiency, distracted as he was by the tightness in his chest, the feeling that his heart was racing despite the fact that he was consciously regulating its every beat. He's irritated, borderline distressed, but he _still_ can't find the words to explain just what is happening - until, as he's being led back to the cryo chamber, he's hit by a wave of emotion so visceral, so devastating, that he can't help the way he doubles over, crying out in pain.

" _What?_ " his handler demands, in Russian. " _Soldier, what is it?_ "

The Asset wheezes in a harsh breath, his flesh hand clutching his chest. "I feel," he gasps. "I _feel_."

He barely registers it when his handler seizes him by the shoulders and drags him bodily into the chair that's waiting, always waiting, just behind him. The last thought he has before he's overcome by searing agony is that he didn't know he could speak English.

* * *

Steve's just coming back from the kitchen after his brief meltdown - in front of Natasha, no less, but the redhead had proven to be a good friend in the weeks since Loki - when it hits. He cries out, overwhelmed with distress, fear, confusion - and then pain, horrible enough to knock him to his knees. Steve screams, and he can't help but feel like it's an echo of someone else's. 

"Steve?" Nat calls, sprinting into the room. "Steve! What happened, are you hurt?"

"No, I'm - " _Fine,_ is what he wants to say, but it's not exactly true. "I don't know," he settles on, cradling his own head in his hands as he tries to figure out what's going on. "I don't know, I just - I felt overwhelmed, then panicked, and I - I don't think it was me."

"You don't think it was you?" Natasha demands. "That's crazy, that's not even _possible_ , not unless--"

"But that's not _possible,_ " Steve says, almost desperately. 

"Is this the first time it's happened?" Natasha asks.

Steve hesitates, then admits, "The worst."

"And it's definitely not you?"

Steve shakes his head. "It's not me."

Natasha sighs. "Well," she says, "the way I see it, there's two possibilities."

Steve laughs humorlessly. "And what're those?"

"Either it is you, and this is some latent reaction to all the trauma you've been through, or..." Natasha trails off. "Steve, we both know that the only way to experience someone else's emotions is if they're your mate."

"But Bucky is - He has to be." If he isn't, then that means Steve left him to die in that ravine. It means Steve _betrayed_ him.

"Talk to the doc," Nat suggests, "see if he can figure something out. But no one knows your own body better than you do."

Steve hesitates, then nods. "All right."

"Do you want me to stay?" Natasha asks.

Steve nods immediately. "Please."

Natasha smiles. "All right," she says. "I'm here as long as you want me."

Neither of them make any move to get up for several long moments, silence falling between them. Steve eventually breaks it, however. "I don't think I'm mad," he says quietly. 

"I didn't say you were," Natasha assures him. "Just, if you are suffering from the aftereffects of everything that's happened to you, it would be understandable."

Steve shakes his head. "I don't think it's that, either," he whispers. "I think - I'm afraid it's him."

"If it is," Nat says, "I can't even begin to imagine..." 

"Neither can I," Steve says. "But I have to know."

"So what are you gonna do?"

"What else?" Steve asks with a wry, if shaky, grin. "I'm going to find him."

* * *

_It didn't work_. That's the first thing the Asset thinks when the pain stops and they help him out of the chair. He knows what the chair is for, knows that afterwards he's not supposed to be able to think at all - but he can, and what's more, he remembers. "It didn't work," he says, in English again, and then growls it in Russian. " _It didn't work!_ "

The technician who has hold of his arm looks alarmed, even frightened. He's supposed to be docile after the chair, harmless; he doesn't think he's ever even spoken before as he's led away to the cryo chamber. The woman looks around, unsure of what to do, but then a handler takes charge and seizes the Asset's shoulder. " _Then we will try again,_ " he snarls, and the Asset snaps.

When it's over, the Asset has six dead bodies at his feet, blood on his clothes, and a dull throbbing in his head that is by no means helped by the anxiety and determination warring for dominance inside him. The chair may not have worked the way it was supposed to this time, but it did achieve something; the Asset can name the emotions now, and he knows that they are not his own. They plague him as he picks his way through the base, changing his clothes and arming himself with every weapon he can carry, and by the time he's ready he realises that he knows something else, too.

He needs to find Steve Rogers.

* * *

Steve accepts Natasha's help, and some - by no means all or even most - of the financial aid Stark offers him. Natasha helps him move mostly unseen, and Steve heads south from New York, moving with no more certainty than 'it feels right.' 

He makes it to a motel in the middle of nowhere, Pennsylvania before he finally has to crash from physical, mental, and emotional exhaustion. It's the middle of the night, barely two days since he set out, but there's been such a back-and-forth in the emotions from the other end of the bond, from none at all to so many Steve can barely think through them, that he can't make it any further. 

He pays for a room for the night using cash, and doesn't bother bringing anything but his shield with him to the room before he collapses on the bed and passes out. 

And that's where Barnes finds him three hours later - because he is Barnes now, he knows that much if little else, and Steve Rogers has not been difficult to track. He waits only for the cover of darkness before he breaks into the motel room and looms, silently, over Steve's bed. After a long moment of hesitation, of drinking in Steve's face and fair hair and the smell of him, Barnes backs away until he can drop into the surprisingly stable chair a few feet away. Steve looks peaceful, and Barnes? He can wait.

He doesn't have to wait long; Steve wakes almost immediately, but something keeps him still on the bed, one hand still hanging over the edge, touching his shield. "Who's there?" he says; if there's no one else around, then he'll just feel stupid, but if they react, he'll be able to get his shield up and ready. 

"A ghost," Barnes says. "Or somethin'."

Steve rolls off of the bed, away from the voice and bringing his shield up in front of himself. "Bucky?" he demands, half afraid he's still dreaming. And he has to be, because - because it's been seventy years, Bucky shouldn't look so similar to how he did that day on the train. 

"If you want," Barnes says. "I've had worse."

Steve hesitates. "Are you - What's your name?"

"James Buchanan Barnes," is the answer, a wry twist to his mouth. "I know who I am, Steve. Just about."

Steve's tense, defensive posture relaxes, if only slightly. "It's really you?" he asks. "Jesus, Buck - what the hell happened?"

"I don't think you want the answer to that." A sigh. "I-- I don't remember much, but. I can feel that you won't like it."

What Steve doesn't like is that answer, but he can feel the lingering pain behind what Bucky apparently can remember, so he doesn't push. "Where have you been?" he asks instead. "You don't look much older than - Than before."

"It's difficult to age when you're cryogenically preserved."

"But you didn't stay in the ravine," Steve guesses. 

"No," Barnes agrees, "I didn't. What about you?"

Steve shakes his head. "The Arctic circle, crashing the plane Schmidt wanted to use to bomb every major city in the Allied forces."

Barnes cannot suppress a shudder. "You died," he rasps. "I remember. I _felt_ it."

Guilt swamps Steve at that. "I thought you were dead," he says quietly, the only defense he had. "I saw you fall, and I didn’t know - I didn't know we had actually mated."

"It wasn't supposed to be possible," Barnes acknowledges. "They thought they'd burned it out of me, but... Guess not."

Steve shakes his head. "Guess not," he murmurs, before the rest of what Bucky said catches up with him. "Wait, what do you mean, 'burn it out of you'?"

Barnes hesitates, but doesn't lie - exactly. "I was... held, by some people," he says. "Tortured, turned into... something else." He waves his left hand, lets the moonlight glint off of the metal.

Steve had thought it was a trick of the light, but apparently not. He swallows, then asks, "When did you..."

"When I fell," Barnes says. "They replaced it within the year."

"Oh," Steve says, a bit dumbly. "That - They found you quick, then."

"I suppose so," Barnes says.

"So what now?" Steve asks, finally lowering the shield to the bed. 

"I don't know," Barnes tells him. "They're probably looking for me; I shouldn't stay."

"What? No - you can't leave," Steve says, a bit desperately. "Don't leave me."

"Steve," Barnes says, gentle. "I barely even remember you. And I'm not safe to be around."

"I don't care," Steve says stubbornly. "Not enough to let us leave each other behind again."

"You're not listening. I've _killed_ people, so many people, I--"

"Did you choose to?" Steve interrupts. "Did you actually choose to, or did you have no choice?"

"It's not that simple," Barnes growls. "They turned me into something that didn't _care_."

"But you didn't choose to be turned into that," Steve argues. 

"That doesn't matter, I'm still--" Barnes cuts himself off and tries again. "I could kill you in a heartbeat," he says. "I might, if they hunt me down and tell me to."

"I'm not that easy to kill," Steve says with a wry smile. "Or that easy to get rid of."

Barnes sighs, looks away. "So what do you suggest?" he asks.

"We keep moving," Steve answers. "Until we feel safe."

"Safe?" Barnes asks, and he hates how that sounds, like he doesn't even know what the word means.

Steve nods. "Until we feel ready to stop."

Barnes nods, wets his lips. "Sounds good."

* * *

They leave first thing in the morning, get in the car and pick a direction. Steve tells him a few hours in that they're heading to the Grand Canyon, that Bucky had always wanted to go when they were younger. Barnes doesn't know if he is Bucky, not yet and maybe not ever, but the cautious hope he feels coming from Steve is enough to keep his mouth shut.

The bond they share begins to prove as useful as it is, at times, uncomfortable. They stop off for gas halfway through the day and Barnes is looking at the magazines when he feels a wave of embarrassed amusement that's definitely not his own. He turns to see Steve standing by a stand full of tacky Captain America merchandise, his ears tinged pink; he waits until they're back in the car to bring it up. "That's you," he says, "isn't it? Captain America."

"Yeah," Steve says, sighing. "It started in the war, and apparently never stopped. Got more intense, actually, after New York."

"What happened?"

"At New York? Simple version, an alien decided to try to invade the planet," Steve says. "Me and several other people stopped him."

"Right," Barnes says, eyebrows raised. "Aliens."

Steve shrugs. "Sounds ridiculous, I know. But the battle is all over the news and Internet, so I'm pretty sure I didn't hallucinate it."

"So then why are you here?" Barnes asks. "You have a job, friends. You're a hero."

"I was a hero," Steve corrects. "I helped with New York because I was one of the only people able to. But that's not me - it's never been me. And knowing you were alive, finding you was more important."

"Well, you've found me," Barnes says.

"Technically you found me," Steve points out with a grin. 

Barnes isn't impressed. "My point stands."

"Well, just because we found each other doesn't mean I'm going to go skipping back to New York," Steve says. "It's - it's not the same. It's changed so much that I wouldn't have stayed there even if I hadn't figured out you're alive."

"And your friends?" Barnes asks. "Do they know where you are?"

"They're not all my friends," Steve says. "But the one who is, knows."

"You should tell them who you're with," Barnes says. "What I'm capable of. If I hurt you--"

"I doubt you will," Steve says, "but if you're that worried about it, I'll let Natasha know."

Barnes tenses his jaw, looks through the window. "Thank you."

* * *

They're quiet after that, and when they reach their next motel Barnes locks himself in the bathroom for a couple of hours and only comes out when Steve's need to pee reaches panic stations. Steve goes for a shower while he's in there, and Barnes sits on the bed assigned to him, lost in memory. There are few things about Steve that he remembers, more that he just instinctively seems to know, but he's been trying to bring more back ever since he left Hydra. It's not easy, and sometimes the wrong memories come back, but he knows it's important.

He's actually getting somewhere when Steve comes out of the bathroom. He's remembering Steve as he was before the war, small and frail and beautiful, fresh from a fight with bleeding knuckles and a black eye. He'd hated it when anyone babied him, treated him like a fragile little omega, but he used to let Barnes - Bucky - look after him, dress his wounds and kiss him after, slow and achingly sweet. It makes something in Barnes ache even now.

He's so distracted that when Steve lays a hand on his shoulder, he reacts without thinking, the Asset rising to the surface to defend himself after being caught in such a vulnerable position. He jumps to his feet and throws Steve over the bed, grabbing a knife hidden in his jacket as soon as he's clear.

Steve rolls with the throw, popping back up onto his knees with his hands raised to show he's unarmed. "Easy, Bucky, it's me - it's just me."

Barnes freezes, blinks. "What?" he hisses, and then throws the knife onto the floor. " _Fuck_."

Steve stays where he is, even though every fiber of him wants to go and comfort Bucky. "It's all right, Buck. It's just me - you're safe here."

But Barnes is trembling, eyes wild with fear that he knows Steve can feel, and he takes a step back on unsteady legs. "Fuck," he says again. "I didn't mean to--"

"I know," Steve says gently. "I shouldn't have touched you. I'm sorry for startling you."

"Me too," Barnes says hastily. "For, almost knifing you."

"Well, you were way over there with the knife," Steve points out, trying out a tentative grin. "May I come over there?"

Barnes falters. "Why?"

"Because I can tell you're still freaking out, and I want to comfort you," Steve says. "And the floor isn't exactly comfortable on my knees."

Barnes nods, though he's still uncertain. "Okay."

Steve gets to his feet carefully, and slowly approaches Bucky, making sure to telegraph his movements; he can still feel how uneasy Bucky is, and he doesn't want to trigger that blankness again. He makes it to within a few feet of Bucky, and then holds out a hand. "Can I touch you?" he asks quietly. 

Barnes doesn't trust himself to say anything, but he nods again.

Steve reaches out for Bucky's hand first, giving it a slight squeeze. "I'm okay," he says. "You didn’t hurt me, see?"

"Yeah," Barnes says, squeezing Steve's hand almost despite himself. He sighs, and feels some of the tension that he's been carrying for the last _seventy years_ seep out of him. "I see."

Steve smiles when he feels the tension drain from Bucky. "I'm okay, and so are you," he says. He reaches out with his other hand to carefully lay it on Bucky's shoulder - his left one. "Is this okay?"

Bucky flinches minutely, but doesn't pull away. "I think so."

Steve doesn't make any move for a moment, and then he brings the hand from Bucky's shoulder down to his arm, squeezing slightly. It's odd, not having muscle beneath his hand, but it's by no means bad. "Okay?"

"Yeah," Bucky breathes, and he even sways a little closer.

Steve takes a deep breath, then says, "Tell me if this isn't okay." And then he gently pulls Bucky into his arms, enveloping his mate into a long-overdue embrace. 

It's a wonder Bucky's legs don't give out as soon as Steve gets his arms around him. As it is, he has to make a conscious effort to only use his right hand to cling to Steve, and tucks his face into Steve's shoulder while he tries to remember how to breathe.

Steve has to brace himself against the rush of emotions from Bucky's side of the bond, and he moves one arm only long enough to encourage Bucky to hold onto him with both hands before he tightens his hold on the other omega. "I've got you," he murmurs, running one hand up and down Bucky's back in a soothing repetition. "I've got you."

Bucky makes a low, wounded sound and presses impossibly closer. "Steve," he gasps. "Oh god."

Steve pulls Bucky with him until they're laying on the bed, Steve's arm wrapped around Bucky's waist with his other hand starting to carefully card through his hair. "You're okay," he murmurs. "You're okay. I've got you."

But Bucky just shudders in Steve's arms and whispers, "I'm not. I'm not, I don't _remember_."

"I know," Steve replies, because he can feel Bucky's distress and it hurts him as much as it does Bucky. "But you're still here, and I've still got you. You're not going anywhere you don't have to, you can remember when you're ready." Steve has no clue if any of this is actually helping, but he feels like he needs to say something regardless, to let Bucky know that Steve is here for him no matter what happens; that he'll be there for as long as Bucky lets him. 

"Why?" Bucky asks, even as he pushes his right hand between them and finds Steve's waist beneath his shirt. "Why are you helping me?"

"Because you deserve to be helped," Steve says simply, shifting so Bucky can touch more of his skin. 

"I barely know you," Bucky argues, but it's weak, like he's not entirely convinced himself. "You barely know me."

"Maybe," Steve admits. "But we can learn."

"I'm a _murderer_."

"So am I," Steve says, because it's true. He killed people in the war, and he killed aliens a few weeks ago. 

Bucky follows his train of thought, because he huffs and shakes his head. "That's not the same."

"I still killed people," Steve says. "I know what that does to a person. I don't know everything about your situation, but I can say that you still deserve to be helped."

Bucky sighs, curls his fingers into the small of Steve's back, and closes his eyes. "Thank you," he breathes.

Steve hugs Bucky tighter to him, fingers scratching lightly against his scalp. "Anytime."

* * *

They stay like that until they fall asleep, and from then on, they both find little excuses to touch each other, even if it's just the back of the other's hand, the shoulder, or the arm. The next two days are uneventful except for how Steve finds himself holding his breath each night until Bucky lets Steve take him into his arms and let them hold each other as they fall asleep; it's something Steve is already addicted to, and he never wants to lose it.

It's also how, the night after they cross the Texas state line on their way to Arizona, Steve realizes almost immediately that Bucky's in the throes of a nightmare. He can feel the conflicting emotions through their bond - distress, but also that terrifying blankness that Steve thinks is left over from Bucky's time with Hydra - and he can feel Bucky shifting in his arms. He snaps to full waking, and gives Bucky a gentle shake on his right shoulder, careful not to lean over Bucky or give him the feeling that he might be trapped. "Buck," he says, just a little louder than his usual speaking tone. "Bucky, wake up; you're dreaming."

Bucky spits something unintelligible in Russian and then his eyes fly open, his right hand automatically fisting in Steve's shirt. "Steve?" he rasps.

"It's me," Steve says, staying still. "You looked like you were having a nightmare."

"I was," Bucky says. His hold on Steve's shirt loosens somewhat, but he doesn't let go. "I... I've been here before."

"Here as in..?" Steve prods gently. 

"Texas."

Steve nods. "Hydra?" he asks quietly. "They sent you here for something?"

"There was someone important," Bucky says. "In a car. I... I killed him."

Steve's spent enough time on the internet to know that there's only one important person in a car, who was killed in Texas, that he can think of. "Was it during a parade?"

"Yeah," Bucky says. "It was."

Steve nods. "That was a few decades ago," he says quietly. 

"Sounds about right," Bucky says. "Who was he?"

"President John F. Kennedy," Steve answers. 

"The _president?_ "

"Yeah," Steve answers. 

Bucky lets out a shaky breath, closes his eyes briefly. "They always made it sound like I was doing good," he confesses, almost in a whisper. "Like they were trying to save the world."

"Makes sense," Steve admits, bringing one hand up to rest over the one Bucky still has twisted in his shirt. "They would want you as compliant as possible."

"I'm sorry," Bucky whispers, even as he releases Steve's shirt and takes his hand. "I should have been stronger."

Steve shakes his head. "They had you for seventy years," he murmurs. "I can't imagine what they did to you; they were determined to break you, and it's not your fault."

Bucky sighs and shuffles closer until he can tuck his head under Steve's chin. "I missed you," he breathes.

Steve takes that as his cue to wrap his arms around Bucky once more. "I missed you, too," he murmurs. 

* * *

They manage to go back to sleep for a couple of hours, and resume traveling the next morning. They pass Dallas, and the next night, Steve wakes in the middle of the night, alone. He panics briefly before pulling himself together, and his uniform on. He finds Bucky eventually on Abilene, near an abandoned business building. "Bucky, what are you doing here?" he asks, shield at the ready; something about this place is raising the hair on the back of his neck. 

"Wanted to see if I could find it," Bucky answers simply. "Wanted to see if it was still here."

"What's 'it'?" Steve asks curiously. 

"The place they held me, back then."

The lightbulb clicks on then, and Steve nods toward the building. "Want to break in?"

Bucky smirks. "I didn't say it was still in operation."

Steve raises an eyebrow. "You already take it out?"

"It's been decades, you said," Bucky points out. "And that president is dead."

Steve shrugs. "Might as well make sure. And maybe we'll find something useful."

"You don't have to come with me," Bucky says. "If there are still people in there, they'll already know we're here. But if I go in I can take them out. You don't have to see that."

"I’ve got your back," Steve says, hefting his shield. "Besides, I've still got a score to settle with Hydra."

Bucky's grin is just a little feral. "Then let's go."

* * *

As it turns out, the base is still in operation, though it's woefully understaffed in comparison to the last time Bucky was here. The people who are there, of course, don't recognise him - but they recognise Steve, and they pale at the sight of him. Maybe if he was on his own, Steve would show them mercy, but as it is Bucky doesn't give him the time to try; he waits long enough to extract some information about other bases from the highest-ranking lackey there and then dispatches all of them with the same cold, ruthless efficiency that the Asset used with all of his victims.

The only difference is that this time, it's undeniably _Bucky_ at the helm - and that doesn't hit him until later, after they've ripped the rest of the base apart and are back in their motel room, getting undressed. There isn't a drop of blood on either of them, because Bucky made sure to keep Steve away from all that and the Winter Soldier knows better, but even so, Bucky can't stop looking at his hands. He knows they're clean, but he can still see the blood on them: the blood of the people he killed tonight, certainly, but the blood of everyone else he's ever harmed, too. He's down to his underwear and a loose t-shirt they picked up somewhere along the way when he decides that he can't take it anymore, and shuts himself in the bathroom so that he can wash his hands. He doesn't come back out.

Steve leaves Bucky be for a bit, but eventually he knocks on the door. "Buck, you okay in there?"

"I'm fine," Bucky calls, but there's a dangerous waver in his voice. "I'll be out in a minute."

"May I come in?" Steve asks; he can feel Bucky's distress through their bond, and he wants nothing more than to comfort his mate. 

Bucky can feel that from Steve's side, too, and part of him wants to resist - but he's far too weak to do that. Instead, he reaches out and twists the door handle, his other hand still under the running water.

Steve hears the lock click and pushes the door open, leaving it open as he steps into the motel bathroom. "Hey," he says quietly, stepping in close to Bucky so he can squirt some soap onto his hands before reaching for the one Bucky still has under the scalding-hot water. 

Bucky doesn't try to fight him. "What are you doing?" he asks softly.

"Helping you," Steve says simply, and he means with so much more than simply washing Bucky's hand. 

Bucky sighs, closes his eyes as he leans into the heat of Steve, lets him do what he will. "Thank you."

Steve hums quietly, washing Bucky's hand thoroughly before he shuts off the water and grabs a towel, drying off both of their hands. "Let's go lay down?" he suggests. 

Bucky hesitates, but nods. "Please."

Steve smiles. "All right. I've got the blankets turned down already."

Bucky manages to smile back, and makes his way over to the bed unprompted. "You ever think the bed's just too soft now?" he asks mildly, even as he crawls beneath the blankets.

"Yeah," Steve says as he follows, wrapping himself around Bucky once the blankets are resettled. "Feels like sleeping on marshmallows sometimes."

"Sometimes it's weird just to be lying down," Bucky admits. "They never let me."

There's nothing Steve can do except squeeze Bucky reassuringly. "Well, you can do it all you want, now."

Bucky nods, and falls silent for a long moment - until: "I'm sorry. If I scared you back there."

Steve sighs. "I was only scared because I had no idea where you'd gone," he says quietly. "And what happened at the base, it didn't scare me. Broke my heart a bit, to think of what they had to do to you to make you like that, but it didn't scare me."

"Would you have let them live?" Bucky asks quietly, ashamed.

"I honestly don't know," Steve answers. "I'd like to say yes, but... Even before I found out you were alive, I still wanted to keep doing what I did after you fell. I destroyed several smaller bases before we moved on the main one, and I wanted to kill Schmidt, but the cube did it before I could. Knowing what Hydra did to you makes me want to destroy them even more."

Bucky huffs. "I feel like I should be apologising for that, too."

Steve shakes his head. "It's not your fault," he says firmly. 

"I don't remember much, Steve, but I remember you were never a huge fan of slaughtering people."

"I wasn't, but that still isn't your fault. And I don't want to indiscriminately slaughter people, just Hydra."

"The people back there didn't even know who I was," Bucky points out.

"They were still Hydra," Steve replies. "And knowing that Hydra didn't end with Schmidt... Well, I became Captain America to stop Hydra, not just Schmidt. My job's not done."

"Then maybe we should put an end to our little roadtrip," Bucky suggests, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

"And what do you suggest we do instead?" Steve asks, though he's starting to smile, too. 

"Kill as many of those bastards as we can."

Steve thinks about it for only a moment before he nods. "I think that sounds like a great plan."

Bucky's smile almost reaches a grin. "Still wanna see that Grand Canyon, though."

"Well, I think we can work that in," Steve teases. 

Bucky's smile softens, and he closes his eyes.

* * *

They meander towards the Grand Canyon, taking their time traveling. It's been three days since they destroyed the Hydra base in Abilene, and Steve is in no way prepared for what he hears when he turns on the news while Bucky does some quick recon of their motel. 

_"In more saddening news, the country has lost one of its most famous veterans to cancer last night. Private James Morita of the Howling Commandos passed away in his sleep after a years-long battle with pancreatic cancer. Morita made his home in California after the war..."_

Steve doesn't hear the rest of what the news anchor says, too busy sinking into what he vaguely recognizes as a panic attack, drowning under the realization of just how long it's been since the Howlies were all together. 

It takes all of three minutes for Bucky to come crashing through the door, his own breathing heavy and his hair as wild as his eyes are, and then he's sinking to his knees in front of Steve, reaching out to take his hands. "Steve? Hey, Steve, look at me."

Steve's having trouble breathing in a way he hasn't since before he met Erskine, but he manages to do as Bucky says, lifting his head just enough to meet Bucky's eyes. "He's dead," he manages to gasp. "Morita. He - "

"Okay," Bucky says. He recognises the name, even remembers enough to put a face and a handful of memories to it, but the pain he feels, however devastating, is all Steve's. "It's okay, Steve, I need you to breathe with me." He reaches up with one hand, his flesh one, and grips the back of Steve's neck, encouraging him to tip his head forward until their foreheads can touch. "I've got you, okay? Breathe with me."

Steve fumbles with one hand until he can lay it on Bucky's chest, searching out his heartbeat and the rhythm of his breathing as he tries desperately to get his own under control. 

"That's it," Bucky encourages softly. "Come on, Stevie. You're doing great."

Steve manages to drag in one ragged breath, and then another, and another, until eventually he can think again. "I just - it hit me, how long it's really been," he says once he feels able to. "How long I was gone."

"I know," Bucky murmurs, pushing his fingers up into Steve's hair. "I know, Steve, but they've all lived good lives. Now's your chance to do the same."

Steve nods, fingers clenching in the fabric of Bucky's shirt. "Yeah," he mutters, chest still heaving a bit. "Yeah, I - You and me both."

"You and me both," Bucky agrees, swallowing that particularly bitter pill without complaint, and uses his left hand to gently rub a thumb over Steve's knuckles. "To the end of the line, right?"

It takes Steve a moment to place the line, and he can't help but laugh wetly - the first time Bucky had said that to him had been after his mother's funeral. And now here he is, almost eighty years after that funeral, saying it again. "I want to - I want to go to the funeral. I should - should have seen him before."

"Then go," Bucky agrees gently. "I bet his family will appreciate it."

"Will you come with me?"

"If that's what you want."

Steve nods. "Please."

Bucky smiles softly, sends a wave of warmth and comfort through the bond. "Then I'll be there."

Steve accepts the comfort gratefully. "Thank you," he says sincerely. "Can we just - go lay down for a bit?"

"Whatever you need," Bucky says easily. His gaze flickers to the TV, still playing inanely in the background though the segment on Morita is long over. "Let's shut this crap off, okay?"

Steve nods, letting Bucky take care of that while he moves to the bed. "You know, I feel guilty for thinking this, but - I'm glad you're here."

"Me too," Bucky says, pulling Steve into his arms. "Nothin' to feel guilty about."

Steve goes easily, pressing himself into Bucky's embrace. "Still do, though; the things you went through..."

"I know," Bucky says, shuddering a little despite himself. "But I'd rather be here now than dead in that ravine."

Steve sighs, curling in on himself until he can tuck his head under Bucky's chin, arms wrapping tight around Bucky's waist. "Yeah," he murmurs. "There is that."

Bucky presses his face into Steve's hair, just breathes him in for a moment. "I got you," he says at last. "Rest."

* * *

"Oh," Bucky breathes when, two days later, they're finally standing on the edge of the Grand Canyon. They're leaving tonight so that they can make it to Morita's funeral, but Steve insisted that they come here first, that they get just one moment of peace before their lives have to start up again. Bucky kept quiet, but he's grateful. "It's..."

"Magnificent," Steve murmurs reverently, reaching for Bucky's hand and giving it a slight squeeze. 

Bucky was already reaching out, and uses the contact as an excuse to shuffle half a step closer to Steve. "Eh," Bucky says, teasing. "I thought it'd be bigger."

Without thinking, Steve answers, "That's what you said the first time we fucked after Azzano. If I remember right, you were still pretty satisfied."

Bucky barks a sharp laugh. "Yeah," he says, "I bet I was."

Steve grins. "You were," he assures Bucky. 

Bucky shakes his head, a fond smile on his lips. "I remember that," he says after a beat. "I think."

Steve's grin softens to a smile, and he can't help glancing at Bucky from the corner of his eye; as he does, it strikes him that even though Bucky has changed so much from the man he was, Steve still loves him. He loves him so much it almost hurts, which isn't that far off from how steve loved him before. 

Bucky turns to return the look, surprised by the wave of emotion but by no means alarmed, unwelcoming. He smiles softly, squeezes Steve's hand again and even pulls him closer. "Me too," he offers, as though what's coming from his side of the bond isn't making that perfectly clear.

Steve goes with the tug, his smile turning tender. "Yeah?" he asks, unable to rest bringing his other hand up to cup the side of Bucky's neck, his thumb rasping over the other's stubble. 

Bucky's free hand goes to Steve's waist, and then the two of them are standing chest-to-chest; their noses almost brush when Bucky looks up into Steve's eyes. "Yeah."

Steve hesitates for only a moment, long enough to search Bucky's eyes, before he closes the last bit of distance between them to press their lips together in a soft, lingering kiss. 

Bucky exhales into it, a soft sigh that feels like relief, like absolution, like bliss. That's what Steve is to him, he realises, what Steve has always been. The rush of emotion from both of them wraps him up, soothes his soul like a balm; he kisses back, noses Steve's cheek when it feels like he's going to pull away until they're kissing again, tender and searching, though they already know everything they need to in this moment. When they finally part, Bucky pulls away only after leaving a final, lingering kiss at the corner of Steve's mouth, and smile he gives him then is blinding. "I think I missed that."

Steve returns the smile. "I know I did," he murmurs before ducking in for another kiss. 

Bucky loses himself to it for as long as it takes for the amazement to wear off and reality to come rushing in - which, in all fairness, is quite a while - but then he pulls back. "Should we?" he asks, a little breathless. "Someone might see."

It takes Steve a second, but then he shakes his head. "It's legal, now," he reassures Bucky. "Once the rest of the world realized omegas could mate each other, they eventually changed the law."

"You're Captain America," Bucky says. "It may be the law but people will still have their views."

"Well they can go fuck themselves," Steve says without hesitating. "I don't care about them."

Bucky's expression softens. "God, I love you," he laughs.

Steve beams. "I love you, too."

Bucky grins, sways closer once more. "Then kiss me again, Captain."

* * *

They expect Morita's funeral to be big, but the sheer volume of people who turn up to pay their respects to the war hero amazes them. They don't make a song and dance of being there, just blend in with the other mourners and sit with their heads bowed. The service is beautiful, and afterwards Bucky hangs back outside of the church while Steve slips away to have a quiet word with the funeral director. It's there that a middle-aged woman finds him, her mouth quirked in a bemused little smile.

"I'm sorry," she says, ducking her head to make eye contact until Bucky looks up. "You must get this all the time, or maybe you don't, I don't know, but you really look like--" She cuts herself off, and the way her eyes widen as her gaze falls just beyond Bucky's shoulder tells him that Steve has put in an appearance. "Oh," she breathes. " _You're_..."

Steve hurries to Bucky's side so the woman won't need to talk louder than necessary. "Steve Rogers," he says in introduction, holding out his hand. "And this is my mate, Bucky."

"Actual Bucky Barnes," the woman says faintly, shaking Bucky's hand, too. "Oh my gosh, my dad is gonna flip. Dad!"

Steve exchanges a glance with Bucky. "Her dad?" he asks uncertainly. 

"Oh," the woman says, turning back with a smile. "I'm sorry, my name is Laura, I'm Jim's daughter - but I'm also--"

"Is that Dugan?" Bucky asks.

"Holy shit," Steve says, a bit dumbly, because even though his hair is white and he is leaning on a cane, that is unmistakably Dum Dum Dugan. 

"Well, I'll be fucked," Dum Dum says, chuckling slightly. "You two bastards don't look any older than you did before you decided to jump into the ice."

"You, on the other hand," Bucky says, already reaching out to steady Dugan as he comes closer, "look great for your age. What are you, one fifty now?"

"I'd say fuck you, but I bet Rogers has that pretty well covered," Dugan says with a grin. "Just passed a century. Don't think I'm gonna last much longer now, though, without Jim around to keep me on my toes."

"I'm really sorry for not coming around sooner," Steve says earnestly, coming up on Dugan's other side. 

The elderly alpha waves a dismissive hand. "We saw the news; still fighting crazy foreigners, eh? We didn't see you, though," he adds thoughtfully, turning to Bucky. "Where the hell were you?"

"I was... indisposed," Bucky says carefully.

Dugan nods, accepting the answer for the deflection it is. "Well, I appreciate you two coming out here to pay your respects. Jim probably appreciates it, too, and I know he'd be crowing about being right if he were here."

"Right about what?" Steve asks curiously. 

"That." Dugan uses his cane to poke Steve in the collarbone, just below his mating mark. 

Bucky smiles. "We didn't even know it was possible," he admits.

"Neither did the world, till Gabe and Dernier came out," Dugan says. "Think they're still around in France, damned youngsters."

"Wow," Bucky says, gaze cutting to Steve. "Maybe we'll get out there."

"Maybe," Steve agrees, smiling. "It's good to see you again, Dugan."

"You too," Dugan says, grinning. 

"Look after yourself, okay?" Bucky adds. "We'll see you soon."

Dugan moves away to talk to some other people, and Laura approaches them again soon after. "This has hit him really hard," she admits. "He's trying to put on a brave face, but..."

"I can imagine," Steve says, wincing slightly. The way he'd felt when he'd thought Bucky was dead... It isn't something he'd wish on most people. 

Laura looks suddenly very close to tears, but she blinks quickly and manages to smile. "It was really good of you to come," she says. "I know he'll have loved to see you. Are you coming to the wake?"

Steve glances at Bucky. "I'd like to, if you're feeling up to it?"

"Yeah," Bucky says, "we can do that."

Laura beams. "Fantastic. I'll just get you the directions."

* * *

Steve's not ashamed to admit that he cries at the wake, and when he and Bucky leave, they promise to keep in touch with both Dugan and Laura; Steve hugs Dugan as hard as he dares, and silently vows to himself to find the rest of the Howlies and visit them.

In the meantime, Steve and Bucky still have their self-appointed mission, and the day after the funeral, they resume their search. Using the intel they'd gathered from Abilene, they head for the next base in northern California, and follow the trail from there up the west coast and into North Dakota, where they find a base that contains information that makes Steve see red. "Bucky," he calls, ignoring the unconscious Hydra goons around him except to knock a groaning one over the head once more to make sure he stays down. "I'm calling in Nat."

"Why?" Bucky asks, coming in from an adjacent room. "What is it?"

Steve shows Bucky the file he found. "They're in SHIELD. Deep."

"SHIELD?" Bucky asks, squinting at the file. "Aren't they supposed to be the good guys?"

"Supposed to be," he agrees through gritted teeth as he fishes out his phone and dials Natasha. 

"Rogers," Natasha says when she picks up after the second ring. "You in some kind of trouble?"

"No, but the world might be," Steve answers. "You someplace safe to talk?"

"I answered, didn't I?" Natasha asks. "What's wrong?"

"I'm guessing you've heard about bases being attacked," Steve says. "Bucky and I have been hunting down Hydra. And we just found evidence they're in SHIELD. _Way_ inside."

"Shit," Nat snaps. "Are you sure?"

"I've got one file in my hand and at least a dozen more in front of me. The one in my hand is Pierce's."

"Right." Natasha sighs. "Send me what you've got. I don't care if you have to take shitty cameraphone pictures, just get it to me. And then get out of there, okay? No more Hydra hunting for you."

"Got it," Steve says. "Hopefully Stark made this thing as user-friendly as he claims."

"I'll be in touch," Nat says, and hangs up.

Steve sighs, pocketing the phone. "Help me gather all the files here," he says to Bucky. "I need to take photos of them."

"What did she say?" Bucky asks, getting to work.

"To send this stuff to her then get off the trail," Steve answers. "She said 'no more Hydra hunting,' which I guess means 'no more until we know more.'"

"Great," Bucky says. "So what do we do instead?"

Steve hesitates, then suggests, "We could head back towards New York?"

Bucky looks up. "To your... not-friends?"

Steve shrugs. "They're not exactly friends, but I'll ask Natasha to look into them first, vet them. She says they're good, we can trust them."

"Do you live there?" Bucky asks.

Steve shrugs again. "Don't really live anywhere," he answers. "I know Tony said something about making floors for the Avengers, but I don't know if he went through with it."

"So," Bucky says, not unkindly, "apart from people you may or may not be able to trust and a place you may or may or may not have to live, what is there for you in New York?"

"Not a lot," Steve admits. "Why?"

Bucky shrugs. "I'm just asking. You got your photos?"

"Yeah," Steve says, snapping the last one. "Sending them to Nat now."

"Then let's go."

* * *

They take their time heading back to New York, both to give Nat time to find what information she can, and to spend more time together before they meet with the rest of the Avengers. Eventually, however, they're riding the elevator to the top of Stark Tower, and Steve is reaching over to take Bucky's hand in his, both to draw and offer comfort. "They're good people," he offers. "Better now that they know how to work together. And Thor is still on Asgard, so at least you won't have to deal with meeting an alien right off the bat."

"And they definitely know I'm coming?" Bucky asks, nervous. "Who I am?"

"They know you're coming, and they know Hydra had you," Steve answers. "They don't know specifics, but they know Hydra made you do some bad things."

Bucky nods. "Okay," he says. "We can do this."

"Yes we can," Steve says reassuringly, squeezing Bucky's hand as the elevator slows to a stop. 

Tony Stark is waiting for them, his feet planted and his arms crossed. "Well," he says. "Look what the Cap dragged in." He turns to call over his shoulder. "Get it? _Cap_."

"Yes, Tony, we get it." Bruce Banner appears at his elbow, and introduces himself as he shakes Bucky's hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you - can I call you Bucky?"

"Uhh," Bucky says. "Sure?"

"You're still not funny," Steve informs Tony. 

"Not as funny as me," Clint says cheerfully. "Nice to meet another cyborg, even if your mechanical bits are a bit more conspicuous."

"Oh," is all Bucky has to offer. "I didn't..."

Clint taps his ear. "Hearing aids," he says. "Prototypes courtesy of Tin Man over there."

"Huh," Bucky says. "Cool."

Tony smiles, though it's a little tight. "Are you going to come in, or do you have somewhere to be?"

"Yeah, sorry," Steve says, leading Bucky into the room and letting Jarvis close the elevator doors. "So what have you found, Nat?"

"From what I can tell, you're right," Natasha says. "Hydra is in SHIELD, to the extent that they're practically the same thing by now. At this point I don't even know who to trust with this and who to run screaming from."

"I've been doing some digging of my own," Clint adds. "Fury is the only high-level operative I'm confident of being safe. Him and his second, Maria."

"Um," Bucky says, glancing around. "Maybe I could help?"

Steve looks at Bucky curiously, while Clint nods considerately. "You think you could identify some agents?"

"I could try," Bucky says. "No guarantees I could recognise all of them, but anything's better than nothing, right?"

"It is," Steve agrees. 

"Would help to confirm what we've already got, at least," Clint adds. 

"Then I'll do it," Bucky says.

"And can we trust him?" Tony asks, looking at Steve. "Can we be sure he won't give us the wrong names, send us after the good guys instead?"

"Yes," Steve says. "For one thing, we're mated. Which also covers my second reason."

"Which is?"

"I'd be able to tell if he was lying," Steve replies with an apologetic glance at Bucky. 

Stark huffs, takes a step backwards. "So, you're mated," he says. "To a Hydra assassin. Was this information we already had? Why was I not told about this?"

"Easy, Tony," Bruce warns.

"You weren't told about it because I didn't know," Steve snaps. "It happened during the War, and we had no idea it'd actually took. And then I found out he was alive, and how, and telling anyone kind of fell by the wayside."

"That doesn't automatically make him trustworthy," Stark points out. "It's been seventy years, and you're the only one who napped the whole time."

"He hasn't tried to hurt me or anyone who wasn’t Hydra," Steve counters. 

"What if that's all part of the plan? You've brought him right into Good Guy Central; he could probably kill all of us in our sleep, and if that's not his jam he could definitely gather enough intel to help someone else do it."

Steve glares at Tony. "I've been traveling with him for _months,_ " he growls. 

"Greatest assassin in _history_ ," Tony snaps. "You think he's not capable of playing the long con?"

"Not on me."

Stark opens his mouth to argue, but Bruce cuts him off. "Enough," he says quietly. "We're all dangerous here. We've all killed good people. It doesn't make us _bad_ people."

"Besides," Clint adds, "Hydra tends not to play the long con when it comes to assassinations, from what we can find."

"And that's it?" Tony demands. "Simple as that, you all trust him? Nat?"

"I trust him enough to give him a chance," Natasha says carefully. "Unless you're all forgetting my history?"

"No," Stark says, "no, of course not. But that's different. Isn't it?"

"I was a Russian assassin," Natasha says flatly. "I was given a chance, and I was known for playing long cons."

Stark glares at her, but at last he sighs. "All right," he says, "all right. He can stay."

Steve sighs. "Thank you," he says. 

"Well, I guess you'd better come on, then," Stark says. "Got your floor all set up for you, bedrooms kitted out and everything. Jarvis will be watching you 24/7, of course, but it's the illusion of privacy that counts."

Steve rolls his eyes. "Of course," he says, but he's smiling, something more genuine than he's let any of the Avengers see before now. "Really, thank you."

Bruce smiles back. "You've got friends here, Steve," he says. "Both of you."

"Thank you," Steve says sincerely. "All of you, really."

* * *

Stark shows them to their floor, spends all of thirty seconds waving in the vague direction of the bathroom, kitchenette and the two bedrooms before making himself scarce, and then they're alone. They hesitate, a little overwhelmed, but then Bucky decides to take the initiative and strides forward, opening one of the doors. It's a bedroom. "Looks decent," he says. "You have a preference?"

"Well, I was kind of hoping we'd share," Steve says teasingly. "Doesn't much matter to me where."

Bucky grins, chooses the next door but one and sticks his head in. "This one," he decides. "Bigger." He looks back at Steve, winks. "Bed looks stronger, too."

Steve rolls his eyes, though there's a flush heating his cheeks. "Of course that's what you're worried about," he says, grinning. 

Bucky shrugs, innocent. "Supersoldier nightmares can get pretty intense," he says. "Don't know what _you_ were thinking."

Steve treats Bucky to a look that tells him how much Steve believes that was Bucky's only - or even biggest - reason. "Well, let's get our stuff in," he suggests. 

Bucky grins and holds the door until Steve reaches him. "So what was Stark talking about?" he asks. "He sending someone up to babysit us or something?"

"What do you mean?" Steve asks absently as he sets their duffle bags on the bed and starts unpacking. 

"He said someone would be watching us."

"Mr. Stark meant that I would be watching you, as I watch the rest of the tower, Mr. Barnes."

Bucky almost jumps out of his skin. "What the _fuck?_ "

"My apologies," the disembodied voice says as Steve laughs. 

"That's Jarvis," the other omega explains once he's got control of himself. "He's Tony's AI - artificial intelligence. Basically, think robot butler."

"Robot butler," Bucky repeats faintly. "In the _walls?_ "

"I do not have a physical body per se," Jarvis answers. "I am a highly advanced computer program, designed to assist Mr. Stark and those closest to him in whatever manner I can."

"And you can see us?" Bucky asks.

"There are no cameras in the bedrooms or bathrooms," Jarvis reassures them. "But there are sensors built into the rest of the building, and certain areas have surveillance cameras."

"Amazing," Bucky says, giving Steve a flat look. "Perfect. Illusion of privacy, indeed."

"A necessary evil, I'm afraid," Jarvis says while Steve shrugs. "Nothing that is not a threat to the residents of the tower is reported, however, I assure you."

But Bucky isn't convinced. "What if Stark asks to hear the conversation we're having right now?" he demands. "What if he asks to hear it in a week?"

"Then I will deny him access, unless you are discussing how to hurt someone else," Jarvis answers. "Mr. Stark built privacy protocols that are unbreachable into my programming."

"Did he also build in an inability to lie?"

"Would you believe me if I said yes?" Jarvis asks, his tone almost wry. 

"No," Bucky says. He looks back at Steve. "Guy's got spunk."

"Pepper says he's actually changed a bit since she first knew him," steve says thoughtfully. "Actually developed a personality."

"Stark's doing?" Bucky asks, eyebrows raised.

Steve shrugs. "He claims he hasn't made any changes as far as Jarvis's personality goes."

"Well, I can't even begin to understand that, so." Bucky jerks his head towards the ceiling. "Are you okay with all this?"

Steve shrugs. "Oddly enough, I feel safer here than just about anywhere else," he says. "So yeah, I trust this."

"Okay," Bucky says. "If you're sure."

"As sure as I can be," Steve reassures Bucky, moving closer until he can lean in and press a soft kiss to Bucky's cheek. 

Bucky smiles softly and slips his arms around Steve's waist. "I trust you," he promises.

Steve returns the smile and the embrace, hugging Bucky more tightly to him. "Thank you," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to Bucky's temple. 

Bucky hums and tips his face up so that Steve's next kiss lands on his lips."I think you do have friends here," he says after a moment. "They clearly trust you, too."

"They're my team," Steve says. "That's as good a basis for friendship as any."

"I like them," Bucky decides. "Stark's a dick, though."

"That was my first thought," Steve says with a grin. "He's a good guy when it counts, though."

Bucky sniffs. "I'll believe you."

Steve laughs. "He's an acquired taste," he admits. "C'mon, let's finish unpacking and then get something to eat, okay?"

Bucky grins. "Sounds good to me."

* * *

Things at the Tower go pretty smoothly for about a week. Bucky sticks to their floor mostly, but on the few occasions he ventures beyond it he finds that he gets on best with Bruce and Clint. Natasha is nice enough to him, but there's something about the way she looks at him that makes him uncomfortable, and Stark is just weird. Jarvis is pretty cool too, he supposes, when he remembers that there's a disembodied voice in the walls and the AI doesn't catch him unawares. But either way, life in the Tower is tolerable, if not outright enjoyable.

Until Stark bursts onto their floor, Jarvis warning them nearly a full second beforehand, and finds Bucky in bed, wearing nothing but a long-sleeved t-shirt, boxers, and a scowl. "Still in bed at this hour?" Stark demands.

"It's seven thirty, Stark."

"Whatever. Where's Steve? I need him for this, as well."

"Steve's here," the blond answers, coming out of the bathroom and drying his hands on one of Stark's ridiculously-soft towels. "What do you need that couldn't wait until we were up?"

"Steve!" Stark gives him a blinding grin, which tells Bucky just how mad he's about to be. "It's time for your medical!"

"What."

Stark turns the grin on Bucky. "You too! Dr Banner is waiting for you in the lab, and you don't want him to get grumpy if you're late."

" _What._ "

Steve just lifts an eyebrow. "Uh huh. You are aware, of course, that Bruce isn't exactly qualified to do medicals on enhanced humans?"

"Who is?" Stark challenges. "Jarvis will help."

Steve rolls his eyes. "You've got another reason for wanting us in your lab, don't you?"

Stark looks scandalised. "You guys have been on the run for how long, and you've been fighting bad guys without any kind of backup except each other," he says. "If the rest of the team is going to start fighting bad guys with you again, don't you think we deserve the reassurance that you're both fit enough to pull your weight?"

Steve isn't impressed. "I'm fit enough to pull your weight out of this room and down the hall before throwing it into an elevator," he retorts. 

"Fine," Stark says. "Don't come. Don't fight with us."

Steve sighs and shares a look with Bucky. "If you get out of our bedroom and let us have breakfast in peace," he says, "we will come down at some point today."

Stark grins. "Excellent! We'll be waiting."

He's gone as suddenly as he arrived, and Bucky doesn't look impressed. "Do we have to?" he asks, already reaching for Steve.

"If we don't, he'll just come back," Steve sighs, even as he slides back onto the bed next to Bucky. 

"Hmm," Bucky grumbles. "Well, we've got a while yet. Let him wait."

Steve grins. "Least he deserves for barging in," he murmurs. 

* * *

They make it down to the lab eventually, and while Bruce just gives them a polite wave, Stark looks unnervingly delighted to see them. "There you are! We were just about to start a search party." He grins, rubs his hands together like he can't wait to get started. "Who wants to go first?"

Steve sighs. "I suppose I will," he says, stepping forward. 

"Excellent! That means that Barnes and I can go over here and have a chat."

Steve fixes Tony with a look. "Be respectful."

"Of course, of course!" Tony laughs, already guiding Bucky away. "What do you take me for?"

Bucky endures this in silence until they seem to reach their destination, an area of the lab far enough removed from Steve and Bruce that their voices are a faint murmur barely heard, but then he freezes at the sight of the chair, clean and clinical and uncomfortably familiar. "I'm not sitting in that."

Tony glances over from where he'd been heading for his tools, and makes a thoughtful noise. "I'd ask why, but that'd probably violate Cap's order to be respectful. All right, hop up on the table here, then." He pats the free space in question. 

Bucky does as he's told, but he watches Stark warily. "What's this about?"

"You've got a delicate piece of equipment attached to your brain," Tony says. "Need to make sure it's not going to fry you."

"The arm," Bucky says. "No."

"Aw, c'mon - I need to at least have Jarvis scan it, make sure there's no like, bugs or shit in it. Not that they'd work in here, but there's also like, legitimate health concerns. That thing's probably wired into your brain, and if it shorts out it also shorts you out, yknow?" Stark actually _pouts_ at Bucky. 

"Are you going to remove it?" Bucky asks.

"Can't, not until I know more about how it's wired into you," Stark answers. "If you want it off later, I need to look at it now. I could also replace it, give you something that's guaranteed not to blow up on you or shock you in the middle of a battle."

Bucky sighs, looks away. "Fine."

"I do need you to take your shirt off to get accurate measurements," Tony says, turning to grab a tablet. "I'm just gonna make some observations, take some measurements, maybe test your mobility and finesse a little; I won't go messing inside the actual arm until I know what's going on inside it."

Bucky doesn't like it, but he does as he's told, pulls his shirt off over his head and holds out his arm for Stark's inspection. "Not a word," he warns, and tries to relax.

Stark doesn't say anything, just takes off his own shirt, revealing the ugly scarring surrounding the arc reactor that keeps him alive. "Let me know when you're ready to stop," he says, and then starts working. 

Bucky manages to ignore it for the most part. He doesn't look at the arm, doesn't look at Stark, just lets him get on with it and prays for it to be over. He just checks out around the time Stark starts to tinker, something about improving the dexterity of his fingers, which is why he doesn't notice Steve approaching until it's too late.

Steve can't help the flash of anguish that surges through him when he sees the scarring on Bucky's arm, but he wrestles it back; now is not the time. He's surprised to see Stark shirtless as well, but not so much when he gets a glimpse at the scars on Tony's chest. "You guys almost done?" 

Bucky flinches, pulls his arm away from Stark so that he can snatch his shirt up against his chest like he's some kind of dame.

Stark sighs. "Guess that means yes."

Steve sends Bucky an apologetic look. "I'll go wait by the elevator," he offers. 

"No," Bucky says, too fast. "Stay. Please?"

"Okay," Steve says, giving Bucky a reassuring smile, doing his best to send love and reassurance through their bond. 

Bucky smiles back, and even offers Stark his arm again so that he can finish up. As soon as he's done, though, Bucky yanks his shirt back over his head and gets the fuck out of there, Steve at his side. They don't speak until they're in the elevator, Stark's illusion of privacy once more, and then Bucky offers, "I'm sorry. I just-- it makes me uncomfortable."

Steve nods. "I understand," he says, giving Bucky a gentle smile. "Stark's usually the same way about that thing in his chest, I suppose; that's the first time I've seen him shirtless."

Bucky takes a breath and decides to leave that for now. "What happened with you?"

"Bruce basically waved some sort of scanner all around me while making small talk," he says. "Didn't even do what doctors back in the thirties used to, and I didn't see any new information popping up on that tablet he was holding."

"So he thinks you're okay?" Bucky asks.

"He did ask if we'd shared a heat, and I told him the last time was before we went to war," Steve says thoughtfully. "He muttered to himself, something about stress and possible chemical suppressants?"

"Chemical suppressants?"

"He thinks there might have been something in the serum, and it's possible Hydra had you on them as well," Steve explains. "Would explain why neither of us has had a heat yet."

"I don't think I've had a heat this whole time," Bucky says. "Figured it was something to do with the cryo."

"Might've been," Steve admits. "Not like we've got any other examples to look at, either of us."

"That's a long time to go without a heat, though," Bucky muses. "Do you think we're never going to have another one?"

"I don't know," Steve sighs. "I hope we will, but... If it hasn't happened by now, when will it?"

Bucky sighs and reaches out to take Steve's hand. "It doesn't matter," he says fiercely. "Not to me."

Steve smiles, tangling his fingers with Bucky's. "It doesn't matter that much to me, either," he replies, voice firm. "It's nice to share a heat, but it isn't the most important part of our relationship."

Bucky smiles and looks away. "No," he agrees, "it's not."

* * *

Things are quiet for the next few days, and then Natasha and Clint ask to come up to Bucky and Steve's floor. They give permission, and Clint holds up a folder. "We were wondering if you might be able to help us identify some agents," he says. 

Bucky's sure Steve feels his nerves skittering down the bond, but he nods. "Sure," he says. "I'll do my best."

"We're just going to show you some pictures," Clint says. "If you recognize any of them, just let us know."

"All right," Bucky agrees, gesturing to the sofa. "Let's sit."

Natasha and Clint take the armchairs, and Steve settles in beside Bucky on the couch. "These are people we're certain aren't trustworthy, we suspect they're Hydra, but we don't have any confirmation," Clint explains. "We're still looking for documentation and a paper or digital trail, but if you recognize anyone that will help us better focus our efforts."

Bucky looks at all of the pictures closely, but he doesn't recognise anyone until: "Him. I know him. Nasty bastard."

Clint separates that file from the rest. "Brock Rumlow, head of STRIKE team," he reads. "He is a nasty piece of work, and I'm not surprised he's Hydra."

"Last I remember, he was being trained to be my handler," Bucky offers. "Gave me a good kicking a couple times."

Natasha glances at Steve, and then takes the file from Clint. "Keep looking," she says, and Bucky bends once more to his task.

"This guy," he says after a few moments, "I'm not so sure about. I think I recognise his face, but..." He trails off, shaking his head. "I'd need to hear his voice."

"Can we do that?" Natasha asks Clint.

Steve has to keep himself content with just rubbing Bucky's shoulder for now, no matter how much he wants to get up and hunt down this Rumlow fellow and give him a good kicking of his own. Clint hums thoughtfully, then nods. "I've got some video from SHIELD's office in DC, I think. Jarvis?"

"Streaming to your tablet from your uploaded files, Mr Barton."

What comes up on Clint's tablet is an everyday office scene, with Sitwell sitting at his desk. Nothing happens for a moment, and then Sitwell gets a phone call. 

"Yeah," Bucky says, the second that Sitwell speaks. "That's him." He sits back, sighs. "He's real tight with Pierce."

Steve gives Bucky a comforting squeeze, leaning into him slightly while Clint sighs. "Yeah, that's not encouraging," he mutters. "Means this is all through SHIELD. We might have to take it out by the roots."

"I agree," Natasha says. "We can't trust anyone. We've got a better chance of smoking them out than we have of trying to pick and choose who we _think_ is involved."

"Should we even bother with that, though?" Steve asks, speaking up for the first time. "If the corruption is so widespread, wouldn't it be better to destroy it all and start again?"

"We can't just kill everyone in SHIELD just to make sure that we've got everyone involved with Hydra," Natasha points out dryly. "Nor can we just... dissolve SHIELD and turn everyone loose, knowing that some of those people are dangerous. But in dissolving it, the ones who are Hydra might reveal themselves, and we can deal with them accordingly."

Clint drums his fingers against his knee thoughtfully. "What about a data dump?" he suggests. "We'd need to either trick or force Pierce, and argue with Fury, but that would dump _every_ file SHIELD - and Hydra - have on the internet for the public to access."

Natasha smirks. "That's dirty," she says. "I like it."

”Anyone currently a Hydra member would be given up," Clint says. "We might need to worry about those who aren't Hydra and currently undercover, but we can set up some sort of alert for most of them; only the best ones go completely alone."

"Wouldn't that also release information about the two of you, though?" Bucky asks.

"Yes," Natasha says. "And that's a conversation for another time."

"We're spies, we always have contingencies for covers being burned," Clint agrees. "And it's not like we're going to fly down to DC to do this today. There's other pieces we need to get in place, namely convincing Fury that this is necessary."

"A task in and of itself," Natasha concedes with a soft laugh. "Thank you for this, James. We'll take it from here."

Bucky nods, watching Natasha and Clint rise from their chairs. "It's still Bucky," he adds as they're about to leave.

Natasha turns back to give him a wry smile. "Not to me."

Steve waves as they leave, then turns to Bucky. "Sounds like she knew you, from before," he says curiously, but not pushing. 

"Well, I don't know how," Bucky says, though somehow that's not entirely true. "I don't know her."

Steve nods, accepting Bucky's answer. "Well, we'll find out eventually," he muses. "In the meantime, you want to watch a movie?"

Bucky grins. "If we can watch it in bed."

"Of course," Steve laughs. "Where else would we watch a movie after a conversation like that?"

Bucky laughs and takes Steve's hand.

* * *

The next morning, while Steve is out on his run, Jarvis lets Bucky know that Natasha is on her way up to his floor. Bucky tells him to let her in and pulls on a pair of sweatpants; he's just tying his hair into a knot when she arrives, and he smiles at her. "Hey," he says. "Coffee?"

"Thank you," she says politely. "What kind of creamer do you guys have?"

"Uhh, pumpkin spice, chocolate caramel, and hazelnut," Bucky answers. "Steve's kind of obsessed with the pumpkin spice."

"Luckily for him, I like the chocolate caramel," Natasha says with a grin. 

"On it," Bucky says, turning away. "Make yourself at home."

Natasha takes the invitation, then takes the cup of coffee that Bucky hands her with a polite smile. "So I guess you figured out this isn't exactly a social call," she says after taking her first sip. 

"I had a sneaking suspicion," Bucky agrees. "What's up?"

"I know," Natasha says simply. "I don't know how much you remember, but I was trained by a man with a metal arm, and he looked an awful lot like you, and the man who shot his target through me a decade later."

Whatever Bucky was expecting to hear, it wasn't this. His mouth works silently for a few awkward moments, but then at last he manages, "I-- I barely remember specific missions. If that was me, I'm sorry. Real sorry. But... I remember a girl."

Natasha shrugs. "If they treated you anything like how they treated the girls who weren't good enough for the final stages of the Widow program, then I don't blame you for not remembering. But I remember that arm, and the man it's attached to. I know what it takes to break away from a group like Hydra and forge your own life, find out who you really are and come to terms with what they made you do."

"What are you saying?" Bucky asks.

"They didn't wipe me as extensively as I suspect they did you," Nat says with a wry smile. "But they did a lot of other similar stuff. If you need advice, or someone to rant to who understands, then I'm offering."

"And what, no hard feelings?" Bucky asks. "I did shoot you - and train you. I'm part of the problem."

"Oh I fully expect a sparring match where I get a chance to kick your ass," Natasha disagrees. "But other than that, no. You're not part of the problem - the problem lies squarely with Hydra and the Red Room."

"Yeah," Bucky says, "maybe you're right."

This time Natasha's smile is genuine. "I usually am," she says cheerfully. 

Bucky smiles, takes a sip from his coffee. When he lowers the mug again, he says, "Your name was Natalia. Wasn't it?"

The corner of Nat's mouth twitches. "My birth name," she agrees. "The Red Room kept it, but I changed it when I started working on my own."

"I won't call you that now," Bucky is quick to assure her. "I just... You were good. Talented. And, Christ. Too young."

"We all were," Natasha agrees. "All of it, but we were all too young."

"Yeah," Bucky agrees, nodding. He gives her a sharp smile. "You burnt that place to the ground, right?"

"I went back a year or so after I got out," she confirms. "Made sure all of the trainees were out on missions and lit the building on fire."

"Wow," Bucky says, grinning. "Great minds."

Natasha smirks, raising her coffee mug in a mock salute. "Great minds," she agrees. 

* * *

Bucky tells Steve the gist of his conversation with Natasha when he gets back in from his run; Bucky doesn't seem upset about the fact that Natasha knows his past, and so Steve leaves it be, promising that he'll stand by Bucky in whatever way Bucky needs him to. And he does; the two of them settle into a routine that's only occasionally interrupted by Avengers business, or Steve being dragged to some interview or other. It's nice, being domestic with Bucky, and it's damned near perfect.

It would be absolutely perfect if Steve could quit having some very provocative dreams. Don't get him wrong, he's more than happy with the way things are right now; it's just, his libido? Not quite so much. Since they haven't talked about having sex again and Steve hasn't been able to pluck up the courage to bring up the subject himself, his libido has taken to exercising itself in his dreams, mostly through replaying his memories of their time together from before in _extremely_ high definition. Which would be fine, except for the fact that even in his sleep, his body reacts as though Bucky actually has his head buried between Steve's thighs, or his fingers, or - 

The point is, Steve's been having a lot of literal wet dreams, and he's gotten used to waking up with his boxers uncomfortably damp, but last night's dream really took the cake; he'd been reliving the first time they'd touched each other, and halfway through the dream-them had morphed into their current bodies, and Bucky had had his left hand between Steve's legs, returning the favor Steve had already paid him. When he wakes, Steve discovers that he's soaked through his boxers, he can't help the groan of frustration he lets loose.

Bucky, up for once before Steve thanks to a particularly disturbing nightmare that he just couldn't shake, is in the kitchen talking to Natasha when he's almost bowled over by the arousal, need, even _desperation_ coming from Steve's end of the bond. He reacts in kind almost automatically, feels himself getting wet between his thighs, and his hands are shaking with it when he sees Natasha to the door, promising to pick up their conversation later. Much later.

He gets to their bedroom just in time to hear Steve's groan, and the room doesn't smell the way he expected it to, the way he remembers, but he can smell how wet Steve is, how turned on - and that's enough for now. Maybe it's just too early in the game.

"About damn time, huh?" Bucky asks, already peeling off his jeans. "It's all right, Stevie, I'll take care of you."

" _No,_ " Steve says sharply, almost snaps, embarrassed. "No, it's not - it was just a dream."

"Oh." Bucky freezes, his eyes wide and jeans around his knees. His boxers are still on, thankfully. "Wow." He laughs, finally finds the wherewithal to pull his pants back up. "That's some dream."

"Replaying a memory," Steve mutters, scrubbing his hands over his face. Abruptly, his frustration spikes, and he bites out, "Is that the only way we'd have sex?"

Caught completely off-guard, Bucky falters. "Uhh, what?"

Steve sighs. "If one of us is in heat," he clarifies. "Is that going to be the only way we go beyond kissing? Helping each other out? I mean, don't get me wrong - I'm happy with the way things are. But I don't - I don't know, I don't want that to be the only way we get closer."

Bucky lets out a shaky breath. "Well, I don't know," he says. "I don't want that either, but..."

"But?" Steve prompts gently. 

"I don't know if..." Bucky shifts uncomfortable. "If you'd want. This." He gestures, not just to his left arm but to his entire body.

Steve's expression softens. "There is no part of you I don't want," he says, quietly but surely. 

Bucky pulls his arms around himself, his right arm covering the left as much as possible. "How?" he asks. "How can you want me to touch you when I--"

"Because you're still you," Steve says. "I never wanted Bucky's body, I wanted Bucky. I want _you._ "

"I'm not the same, either," Bucky says. "And I could hurt you, Steve, really hurt you. The things I've done with this..." He holds up his left hand at last, makes a fist.

"I can imagine," Steve says, "but I don't care. I trust you."

Bucky hesitates, but he can't bring himself to keep arguing, not when he can feel Steve's earnest sincerity through the bond. "Then I want to," he admits. "Heats or not. I want to be close to you."

Steve smiles. "Well, I'd invite you closer right now, but uh - I'd really like to change boxers and maybe bed sheets first," he says with a bit of a laugh. 

"Wow," Bucky says again, laughing. "That really was a good dream."

Steve grins a bit sheepishly. "It really was," he says with a self-conscious laugh. 

"How about a shower?" Bucky suggests, a tentative smile on his lips.

Steve beams. "That sounds great."

* * *

About a week later finds Bucky back in Tony's lab, once again sitting on a table with Steve at his side, the both of them looking on in amusement as Tony mutters to himself, running various tools over Bucky's arm, absentmindedly accepting tools from one of his little robots, and working on a model arm that he’s apparently built. It’s supposedly an exact replica of Bucky's arm, a way to allow Tony to work out how to work on Bucky's arm without accidentally tripping any security measures that Hydra may have included, as well as dig as deeply as he wants to without risking sparking an undesirable reaction from Bucky by accidentally messing with the wrong wire.

Steve can't help but laugh when Tony gets thrown to the side by the model arm, which had spasmed violently, knocking into his ribs before apparently setting itself on fire, prompting DUM-E, who has been hanging around specifically for this purpose, to come forward with his little fire extinguisher, first taking out the actual fire before hitting Tony with a blast and a reproachful beep for good measure. The billionaire scowls at the robot, scrubbing the CO2 foam from his hair. "Yeah, yeah," he mutters. "Jarvis, make a note of that, will you?"

"Of course, sir."

Bucky chuckles and turns to Steve, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Just like his father, right?"

"Just like Howard during the war," Steve agrees while Tony shoots them a scowl. 

But Bucky doesn't notice, distracted by the ice suddenly flooding his veins. "I... I don't know how I know that," he admits quietly.

Steve reaches for Bucky's hand, giving it a slight squeeze. "You're remembering more stuff?"

"I guess," Bucky says. He feels... unsettled, on edge. "Are we almost done?"

"Yeah, I just need to reattach this plating, once Capsicle is finished laughing at me," Tony says with a pointed look at Steve, who has the grave to look sheepish. 

Bucky waits in tense silence until Stark steps away, and then he's out of his seat and pulling his shirt back on. "Thanks," he says, without actually looking at Stark - and then to Steve, "You stayin'?"

Steve shakes his head. "No, Tony doesn't need me for anything."

"Great." Bucky's already halfway through the door. "See ya, Stark."

Tony waves as Steve scrambles to catch up to Bucky. "Hey, you all right?"

"Yeah," Bucky says, without looking around. "Just had to get out of there."

"Okay," Steve says, watching Bucky carefully. "You wanna get out of the Tower?"

Bucky thinks about it, but it doesn't take too long for him to realise he probably couldn't handle the crowds. "No," he says. "But I don't want to be around the others."

Steve nods. "Okay. Our floor then? We can ask Jarvis to keep everyone out."

"Sounds good," Bucky says, glancing at Steve. "Thanks."

Steve smiles, reaching for Bucky's hand and giving it a squeeze. "No problem."

* * *

Bucky doesn't tell Steve what he was thinking about that day in Tony's lab, but Steve doesn't press; if Bucky wants him to know, he'll tell Steve. They spend the rest of the day alone in their floor, Jarvis faithfully keeping everyone else out. A few days later, they've locked themselves in their floor again, this time after Tony spent some time testing out the capabilities of Bucky's arm and Steve spent most of the day planning with Clint and Natasha, organizing the information they'd gathered so far. It had been exhausting work, and Steve will be more than glad when they're finally able to execute the plan they're slowly piecing together.

For now, however, Steve's content where he is, curled into Bucky's arm on their bed while a movie plays quietly in the background; Steve wouldn't even be able to tell you what was playing, not with how he's currently distracted by the way Bucky's kissing him, and especially not when he notices that he's not the only one being affected by the extended contact. He can't help but break away long enough to laugh quietly, asking, "Enjoying yourself?"

Bucky makes a sound that might actually be a purr and reels Steve back in for more kisses. "Are you?" he asks after a moment.

Steve smiles into the kiss. "Very much so," he murmurs, fingers twisting in the fine hairs at the base of Bucky's neck, tugging gently. 

Bucky laughs against Steve's mouth, tugs at his bottom lip a little with his teeth. "We're missing the movie," he points out.

"Don't care," Steve breathes. "Can always watch it later."

"And right now?" Bucky asks innocently.

"Right now I'm more interested in you."

"Oh," Bucky says, grinning, as he slips his thigh between Steve's legs. "Tell me more."

Steve returns the grin, shifting until he can straddle Bucky's thighs, tentatively grinding down. "Why don't I show you?"

Bucky groans, grips Steve's hips as he grinds up into him in turn. "This what you had in mind?"

"It's a start," Steve agrees, grinning as he leans down to press a kiss to the corner of Bucky's mouth, his hands kneading the brunette's shoulders almost absently as he rolls his hips. 

Bucky's hands slip up beneath Steve's shirt in response, and he sighs, pleased. "Off?" he asks.

"Yeah," Steve sighs, reaching for the hem and tugging the shirt off without hesitation. "You?"

Bucky doesn't hesitate either; he just nods. "If you're sure."

Steve smiles, cupping Bucky's face so he can draw the other into a slow, deep kiss. "I’m sure," he murmurs. "I want to see you, if you're comfortable showing me."

"I am," Bucky promises. He pushes up into the next kiss until he's sitting with Steve in his lap, and leans back just enough to pull his shirt off. It's at this point that his confidence fails him, though, and a tendril of insecurity snakes its way through the bond.

Steve sends reassurance right back, keeping his hands where they'd landed on the sides of Bucky's neck for the moment. "I love you," he murmurs. "So much."

"I know," Bucky whispers, circling his arms around Steve's waist until their chests are touching. "I love you, too."

Steve smiles softly, pressing a kiss to Bucky's jaw. "Let me know if you don't like anything," he says quietly, letting his right hand drift until his fingers are just barely skimming the scar tissue on Bucky's left shoulder. 

"It's okay," Bucky promises, forcing himself to relax. "I can barely feel it."

"Still," Steve says, raising an eyebrow. "If you don't like it, let me know - I want this to be good for both of us."

"It is," Bucky murmurs, kissing Steve again. "It's perfect; you're perfect."

"Good," Steve hums into the kiss. 

Bucky sighs against Steve's mouth, his eyes closed and his lips smiling. "Come on," he murmurs. "I want you."

"How?" Steve asks, his hand leaving Bucky's shoulder to trail down his chest, fingernails scratching lightly. "How do you want me?"

Bucky catches Steve's hand, guides it lower. "Inside me," he rasps. "Please."

Steve smiles, letting his fingers slip under the waistband of Bucky's pants. "You wanna keep these on?" he asks quietly. 

"Um," Bucky says, and when his voice wavers it's with arousal rather than uncertainty. "No. I want-- you too?"

"You want my pants off, too?" Steve clarifies, wanting to be sure that they’re on the same page. 

"Yes," Bucky says, smiling. "If that's okay?"

Steve nods, reaching for his own pants. "That works out rather well," he says, teasing, "because I really want your fingers inside me, too."

A shiver of want goes right through Bucky. "God yes."

Steve grins. "Then hop to it," he says, gesturing to Bucky's pants. 

Bucky doesn't need to be told twice.

* * *

Things are good - _really_ good - for the rest of that week and well into the next. Bucky spends most of his time with Steve, who isn't too busy while they wait for Natasha and Clint to finish going through the information on Hydra that they already have. Stark is distracted too, playing with the model of Bucky's arm so that he doesn't have to play with the real thing, and Bruce is helping him. Bucky certainly isn't going to complain; once they've extracted all the intel they can from what they've got, he knows the time will come to launch an attack on Hydra and SHIELD itself, and he has yet to work out whether or not he'll be able to help.

There's also the fact that he and Steve have a lot of catching up to do, seventy years' worth in fact, and they've been spending a lot of time getting reacquainted. Bucky currently has his head between Steve's legs, and when a phone rings nearby he pulls back only long enough to rasp, "Ignore it," before returning to his task. Steve's hand finds his hair, though, pushing him away, so he gives up and rests his head against Steve's thigh while Steve answers the call.

"Steve." It's Natasha's voice, the volume on Steve's phone turned up just enough that Bucky can hear. "You and Barnes need to get down here right now."

Steve glances down at Bucky, bites his lip indecisively. "It's that important?"

" _Yes_ , Steve, it's that important," Natasha snaps - even as Bucky meets Steve's gaze, smirking, and gives him a pointed lick.

Steve has to bite back a curse, settles for sticking his own tongue out at Bucky. "Fine, we'll be down in just a minute."

Bucky waits until Steve has hung up before nosing his way back into position, and gives Steve a hopeful look. "We're gonna be more than a minute, right?"

Steve smirks. "Duh," he answers, tangling his fingers in Bucky's hair once more. 

* * *

Natasha is pissed when they finally put in an appearance, looking very pleased with themselves and still flushed from their activities. Bucky even has an arm looped around Steve's waist, keeping him close in an easy, affectionate sort of way rather than a possessive one. Natasha notices, of course, and the pointed look she gives Bucky's arm is enough to make him feel awkward, uncomfortable, but not quite enough to make him drop it. "So what's up?" he asks Natasha brightly, as though the hairs on the back of his neck haven't been standing on end ever since they were granted access to her floor.

"This," Natasha says, and she thrusts a file in Steve's face. "Read that. Tell me I'm wrong about what it means."

The pleased expression slides off of Steve’s face as he skims the file once and then reads it more carefully a second time. "I don't think you are," he says slowly, stomach sinking. 

"What?" Bucky demands. "What is it?"

Steve takes a deep breath, hands the file to Bucky. "Tony's parents. Their deaths weren't an accident."

Bucky's hand shakes when he takes the file, enough that a few papers almost fall out. "Oh," is all he can bring himself to say.

Natasha's eyes narrow. "What do you know about this?" she demands. "Was it you? Did you murder Stark's parents?"

" _Hey,_ " Steve snaps, glaring at Natasha. "Even if the Winter Soldier did this, it wasn't Bucky."

"It was," Bucky says, staring at the pictures of Howard and Maria Stark in his hands. "I-- I remember."

Steve slips an arm around Bucky's waist. "Hydra wanted them dead," he guesses. "They were a problem, or they had something."

"They had... something," Bucky agrees, tense in Steve's hold. "Something important, I don't--"

"It's all right," Steve says quickly, hastening to reassure his mate. "We'll find out, don't worry."

"Steve," Natasha interrupts, her expression hard. "We need to tell Tony."

"I know," Steve says, because there's no way he can justify keeping this from Tony. "But carefully."

Bucky tenses even further, and pulls away. "I should go."

"Bucky?" Steve asks, concerned. 

"You think he's gonna want the man who killed his parents under the same roof as him?"

"He's got a point, Steve," Natasha interjects.

Steve hesitates, torn. "Tony's not that unreasonable," he points out. "And it's easy enough to avoid people in a place this big."

"Steve," Natasha warns. "Think about this."

"I am," Steve says defensively. "Where else can Bucky go?"

"Stark's not going to care about that," Bucky points out.

Natasha concedes the point. "Maybe he should be gone before you even tell him."

"But where is he even going to go?" Steve demands. 

Natasha sighs. "I don't know," she says. "Maybe I can come up with a safe house or something. But we have to prepare for the possibility that Tony will react badly, even violently."

"Don't worry about it, Stevie," Bucky says. "I'll find somewhere."

"Then we aren't telling Tony until you have a safe place," Steve says stubbornly. "Even you, Jarvis."

"So long as you tell Mr. Stark soon, Captain."

"Christ," Bucky sighs, passing a hand over his face. "I'll go tonight, okay? You can't keep this from him."

"I'm also not putting my mate in danger," Steve retorts. 

"So if I'm gone," Bucky says, "it's two birds, one stone. Right?"

"No!"

"Why not?" Bucky asks.

"Because - " _Because you'll be gone, because the last time you were gone I crashed and froze, and I don't want that to happen again, I don't want you to be gone again._ "Because if you leave I'm going with you."

That brings both of them up short. "What?" Bucky asks.

"If you leave the Tower, I'm going with you," Steve repeats. 

"You-- you can't," Bucky stammers, and they all know he's caught. The sheer volume and intensity of the emotions Steve is projecting through the bond would be more than enough to sway him, even if he did have somewhere legitimate to go outside of the Tower. "This is your home."

Steve shakes his head. " _You_ are my home," he says firmly. 

"Stevie," Bucky murmurs, and for a moment he forgets about Natasha, forgets about the blood on his hands and the man who has every right to want to exact bloody vengeance upon him just a few floors above them; he reaches out and slips his hand into Steve's.

"This is really cute and everything," Natasha interrupts, sounding only vaguely disgusted, "but if you're not going to let him leave, what are we going to do?"

Steve glances at Bucky. "Maybe you could leave the Tower for the afternoon?" he suggests. "If Tony reacts badly, I'll meet up with you."

"And what, we'll go on the lam?"

"Until he calms down, yeah."

"You can't be serious," Natasha says.

"I am," Steve assures her. 

Natasha sighs. "So when do you propose we tell him?"

Steve glances at Bucky uncertainly. "Sooner would be better," he admits. 

"Like I said," Bucky says, "do it tonight. If Stark needs me to leave then it'll be fine. I have some experience living hand-to-mouth."

Steve glances at Nat. "I guess," he says, looking for her input. 

"Sounds good to me," Natasha concedes. "Who's gonna tell him?"

"I will," Steve decides. "Nat, you should stay with Bucky."

"Shouldn't it be the other way around?" Natasha asks, an eyebrow raised.

"You'll be better able to get him out of the city quickly if it comes to that," Steve points out. 

"And you'll join him afterwards?" Natasha asks.

"If Tony reacts badly enough, yeah."

"All right," Natasha says. "Although if you think he's going to need to flee the city, you may as well start packing your bags now."

"I don't think he will," Steve says, "but just in case."

Natasha nods, and Bucky squeezes Steve's hand before letting go. "I'll start making a move," he says. "Call me?"

Steve nods. "I will," he promises, leaning in for a quick kiss. 

* * *

Steve only waits until Bucky texts him to tell him that he and Nat are well away from the Tower before he seeks Tony out. Jarvis directs him to one of the business floors, and Steve manages to catch Tony as he's coming towards the elevator. "Can we talk?" he asks, determination settling like a heavy weight on his shoulders. "In private, please."

"Sounds serious," Tony says cheerfully. "How private are we talking? Do we need to go to my lead-lined panic room?"

"Maybe?" Steve hedges. 

Tony raises his eyebrows. "I don't actually have a lead-lined panic room, but I'm starting to think I should build one." He leads the way into the elevator, and then hesitates. "Your floor okay? Or is this something even Barnes can't hear?"

"He already knows, and he's actually out at the moment," Steve answers. "My floor's fine."

So they go up to Steve's floor, and Tony is noticeably antsy by the time they reach it, though he's clearly trying to hide it. "Okay," he says, "what's so important that you had to send your mate off the grounds before you could tell me?"

Steve picks up a file, handing it to Tony. "Nat found this in the files from a base that Bucky and I took out."

"Okay," Tony says, frowning, as he flips through the file. "Didn't we already know the Winter Soldier was an assassin? I hardly see what--" He cuts himself off abruptly when he gets to the page with his parents' faces on, and then he slams the file shut, looks up at Steve with eyes that are _burning._ "Tell me this is a joke."

"I wouldn't joke about something like this," Steve says quietly. 

"Steve," Tony says, his voice shaking with rage or pain or some other awful emotion. "He _killed_ my parents."

"Hydra ordered the Winter Soldier to kill them," Steve says, because it may have been Bucky's body, but it wasn't _him._

Tony recognises the distinction, but he ignores it. "That man has been living under my roof," he snaps. "Does he remember? Has he known this whole time?"

"He didn't remember until he saw that file," Steve says immediately. 

Tony hesitates, tries to breathe through it. "Is that why he's not here?" he asks. "Has he run away from me?"

"We were worried about how you'd react," Steve says truthfully. "He hasn't left permanently, but he offered to if - if it would make things easier."

"Jesus Christ, Steve," Tony spits. "How am I supposed to know that right now?"

"You're not," Steve says, because he remembers what it was like to lose his own parents, first his dad and then his mom, years apart but no easier. He imagines it's much worse for Tony. "He's willing to do whatever you need to be comfortable."

Tony takes a deep breath, closes his eyes. "Does he have anywhere to go?" he bites out.

"Nat's offered to set him up with a safe house, but she's not sure how long that would take."

"So no, is your answer," Tony says flatly.

"No," Steve admits. "We didn't want to keep this from you; you deserved to know." 

Tony shakes his head, frustrated. "Keep him the fuck away from me," he says. "Okay? If I see so much as a plate he left out, a single strand of his hair - he's out."

Steve nods, but he doesn't think Tony would take a 'thank you' very well at the moment. "For what it's worth," he says instead, "I'm sorry."

Tony sighs. "Thanks, Steve," he says, "but right now it's not worth a whole lot. Just-- give me some time, okay?"

Steve nods. "We will," he promises. 

* * *

Bucky barely leaves his and Steve's room for the next two weeks, let alone their floor, but he needn't be so cautious: Tony doesn't venture away from his lab at all except for when Pepper bullies him into snatching a few hours' sleep in his own bed. Bucky only knows this because he overhears Jarvis telling Steve, and it doesn't make him any braver. Tony will have to come out of his self-enforced isolation eventually, and Bucky will have to face him when he does.

Except, it doesn't exactly work out like that.

Steve has left on his morning jog when Jarvis plays a little bell to get Bucky's attention - they've found it doesn't startle either him or Steve anywhere nearly as badly as a voice coming from nowhere. "Mr. Barnes, I have a video message from Mr. Stark."

"Uhh," Bucky says, "okay?"

Jarvis pulls the video up on the screen Steve and Bucky use to watch movies. " _So,_ " Stark starts; he's in his lab, and he looks like he hasn't gotten anywhere near enough sleep the past couple of weeks, " _first off, I'm not gonna apologize for asking you to stay the hell away from me; all things considered, I probably could have reacted worse. The point of this video, however, is to say that I understand the Winter Soldier wasn't really Bucky Barnes; so, the Winter Soldier killed my parents, but he only did so because he was ordered to by Hydra. I know that, I get that - and while I can't promise things won't be awkward for a while, I can promise I'm not going to like, rig your arm to explode or anything. I'll save that for the first Hydra goon I can get my hands on who had something to do with their deaths. So you don't need to hide out on Steve's floor for fear of me coming after you with a spork._ " The video cuts out abruptly, leaving an empty screen. 

"Right," Bucky says, to no one. "Uhh, Jarvis? Is that how people normally communicate with each other in the future?"

"Mr. Stark is somewhat of an exception, particularly after events that affect him such as the reveal of the true nature of his parents' deaths has."

Bucky detects a hint of disapproval or even scorn there, so he drops it and stays quiet until Steve gets home. "You heard from Stark?" he asks.

Steve shakes his head. "Why? Did he do something?"

"Sent me a video message," Bucky says, "telling me he won't make my arm blow up when he next sees me."

Steve expression twists into something simultaneously amused and pained. "That does sound like something he would say."

"I don't really know what to do now," Bucky admits. "I don't want to send him one back."

"He's probably not expecting a reply," Steve points out. "Jarvis delivered the message, and will have told Tony that."

"So what, just act normal?" Bucky asks dubiously. "I thought he'd at least want to hit me."

"He probably did," Steve admits. "Maybe even still does a little, but according to Pepper he's matured a good bit since he became Iron Man, so he probably won't hit you for something you had no control over."

Bucky shrugs. "I guess we'll see."

"Yeah, I guess," Steve says, hesitating. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Bucky says. "Yeah, I'm good. Are you?"

Steve doesn't answer right away, but he can tell there's something bothering Bucky, and Steve's willing to bet it's the same thing bothering him. "No, I'm not," he admits. 

Bucky's stomach lurches, and he knows Steve feels it. "I know," he says. "I know things are different now."

"Are they?" Steve asks, almost a bit desperately. "We found out that two of the Winter Soldier's victims were closer to us than we thought, but we already knew what Hydra made you do."

"It's one thing to know it in the abstract and another to see it for yourself," Bucky points out miserably. "I don't expect you to be okay with that."

"I'm not exactly okay with it," Steve says carefully, "but I've come to terms with it. A while ago, as a matter of fact."

Bucky frowns. "What?"

"I knew what Hydra made you do," Steve repeats. "It wasn't that hard to wrap my head around the fact that Howard and his wife were killed by them."

"By me."

"By the Winter Soldier," Steve says firmly. "You regret what you were made to do, I know because I can feel it."

Bucky doesn't know what Steve is feeling right now, is too far inside his own head to make sense of it. "It doesn't change the fact that I did it."

"It doesn't," Steve admits, "but it makes it easier to accept that it happened, that you were just as much a victim as the ones they made you kill."

Bucky's laugh is dark. "I don't think many would agree with you there."

"Well then they're idiots," Steve says firmly. "You were victimized by Hydra, they tried to _erase_ you."

"I know," Bucky says, because he does. "It's just hard to see that past everything else."

Steve sighs, moving closer until he can take Bucky's hand. "Well, I'll be here to remind you of that as often as you need," he promises. 

Bucky squeezes Steve's hand, pulls it to him until it's cradled against his chest. "So you're still in this?" he asks, too quietly. "Still with me?"

Steve nods. "Always," he promises. 

Bucky smiles softly, so grateful his head spins with it. "I love you."

Steve returns the smile. "I love you, too."

* * *

The rest of that night and the next day pass normally enough, but the next night, Steve's woken by Bucky tossing and turning on the bed, obviously plagued by nightmares. "Bucky?" Steve carefully reaches over to lay a hand on Bucky's shoulder, shaking lightly. "Bucky, wake up."

"Don't," Bucky hisses, awake in an instant and out of bed in the next. "Don't touch me, I'm okay."

Steve holds his hands up in supplication. "Okay," he says, doing his best to project calm through their bond. "You seemed like you were having a nightmare."

Bucky sighs. "Not a nightmare," he says. "A memory."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"I know why I killed the Starks."

Steve sucks in a breath. "You know what the orders were?"

"I had to retrieve something from them," Bucky says. "Packets of... stuff. I don't know. A liquid. No witnesses. They didn't tell me what the shit was, obviously, but they used it to..."

"To?" Steve encourages gently. 

"To create," Bucky says simply. "People like me."

"They wanted more Soldiers," Steve says, eyes widening. "Do you - what happened to them?"

"I don't know," Bucky says. "They were worse than me. Almost impossible to control without brute force. But they were... useful. Efficient. Bloodthirsty." He shudders. "Hydra likes those qualities."

"I'm sure they did," Steve says, making a face. "Do you remember anything else?"

"I don't-- I don't know," Bucky says. He may or may not be shivering. "It's not... My head's a mess."

"It's all right," Steve says soothingly, twitching the covers. "You wanna come back over here?"

Bucky sighs, glances back at Steve. "Maybe."

"Want me to come over there?"

Bucky hesitates, but nods.

Steve smiles, pushing himself out of the bed so he can walk over to Bucky, reaching out to take Bucky's hands in his, squeezing gently. "I love you," he says quietly. "Whatever you need, I'll do my best to give it to you."

Bucky lets out a shaky breath, pulls Steve closer. "Just you," he murmurs.

"I got you," Steve murmurs, pulling Bucky in until he can wrap him up in his arms. 

Bucky sighs, lets himself be held. After a moment, he presses a kiss to Steve's shoulder. "Thank you."

"Anytime," Steve promises, pressing a kiss of his own to Bucky's temple. 

* * *

Steve and Bucky eventually climb back into bed, but the next day they start researching. Within the week they have a location, and a few more days has them supplied and ready to go. It's just the two of them, Tony still keeping himself occupied in his lab, Bruce keeping him company while Natasha and Clint continue working to set up all the pieces for their plan to expose Hydra, and Thor is still on Asgard, as far as anyone else knows. 

They're able to fly their borrowed quinjet directly to the base, and Steve frowns when he sees how much snow the engines blow away from the door. "Looks like it's been abandoned," he says thoughtfully. 

"We should still go in," Bucky says. "Who knows what Hydra is arrogant enough to leave behind."

Steve nods. "They were pretty arrogant in the war," he agrees, sliding his shield out if it's harness and onto his arm. "You ready?"

"Yeah," Bucky says. He doesn't make any move to arm himself, just sets his mouth in grim determination. "Come on."

Steve follows Bucky's lead, and has to keep himself from sneezing when the elevator they take down to the main levels disturbs a thick layer of dust. "Definitely abandoned, unless they can teleport into the other areas," Steve mutters. 

Bucky grunts. "This way."

Steve doesn't lower his shield as they move through the abandoned base - he was joking about the teleportation, but with the things he's seen in this new century, he's not taking any chances. When they approach a large blast chamber door, Steve hesitates. "What's behind there?"

"The cryo chambers," Bucky says. "Where they used to keep us."

"Oh." Steve hesitates, then asks, "Could the others still be here?"

"Maybe," Bucky says. "That's what we're here to find out."

Steve nods, and then he opens the door. 

The first thing he notices is how _big_ the room is; it's enormous, with the ceiling easily fifty feet over their heads, if not higher. There's a depression in the middle of the floor, with some kind of mechanical contraption in the middle of that. What really catches Steve's attention, however, are the six columns that can only be the cryogenic chambers. "Damn," he breathes. One is empty, but the others are still occupied. 

"Yeah, that's mine," Bucky says, eyeing the empty chamber with an unreadable expression. He sighs. "What do you want to do?"

Steve glances at Bucky; he can feel that the other omega clearly isn't comfortable. "Let's keep looking for records, see if we can find anything useful."

"About the Soldiers," Bucky says sharply. "Are we going to leave them here? Kill them?"

"Oh." Steve hesitates. "I don't know. Are they even still alive right now? Is there a way to check?"

"There is," Bucky says, moving over to a console along one wall and squinting at it. "If we can fire up the system, we should be able to check their vitals."

"Okay," Steve says slowly. "How do we do that?"

"Give me a second," Bucky says with a wry smile, as he pushes a few buttons experimentally. "It's been a decade or so."

"Right," Steve says, a bit sheepish. 

Bucky pushes another few buttons, until suddenly the console flairs to life. "We're in business," he says, still fiddling. "Let's see what this thing can tell us."

Steve moves closer to Bucky so he can see the monitor, and then curses softly. "They're still alive."

"Looks that way," Bucky says. He sighs. "We can't let them live, Steve."

Steve hesitates, then asks, "Could we just... Leave them?" He doesn't like the thought of killing people - even people as vicious as Bucky had said they were - in cold blood.

"We can't," Bucky says. "Who knows how long this place has been abandoned, but that doesn't mean Hydra has forgotten about it. These Soldiers could take a whole country down in one night and you'd never see them coming. Hydra _will_ use them again."

"Could they be reformed?" Steve asks, though he's doubtful, keeping in mind what Bucky's already told him. 

Bucky shakes his head. "They're not like me," he says. "They chose this - and they were already pretty fucking awful even before they got the serum. That just made them worse."

Steve sighs. "So there's really no choice, then."

"I can do it," Bucky offers. "You don't even have to be here."

Steve shakes his head. "No, I'll stay."

Bucky searches Steve's face, conscious of the conflicting emotions coming through the bond. "Are you sure?" he asks. "It's okay if you can't."

Steve nods. "I'm sure," he says; he may not be able to watch, but he's going to stay. 

Bucky sighs. "Okay," he says. He waits a moment longer, but when Steve still doesn't change his mind, he removes one of his guns from its holster and approaches the first chamber.

Steve can't make himself watch, but he counts off the shots as Bucky puts down the other Soldiers. When he's reached five, Steve takes a deep breath, and looks up. "And now Hydra's got one less weapon," he says; he still doesn't like that it happened like this, killing them in their sleep instead of in a fight, but he knows there wasn't any other way. 

Bucky gives Steve a sad smile. "Let's go look in some of the other rooms," he says. "I think I remember where they kept their records."

Steve nods. "I'm right behind you."

* * *

Bucky does indeed remember where this particular base kept their records, and he and Steve spend several hours scanning everything they can find with the new scanner that Tony had made specifically for this purpose. They also scan the computers, using a miniature Jarvis extension that hunts down every last file on the computer banks, storing it for upload to Stark servers later. When they're finally ready to leave, the two omegas carefully store the Stark tech before retrieving the explosives. The base is too big to destroy entirely, but bringing down the entrance will seriously hinder anyone looking to get into the base. They line the first several hundred yards of hallway as well as the top of the elevator shaft with C4, positioned strategically to do the most damage possible. 

They retreat to a safe distance before blowing the entrance, and Steve can't help but be impressed with the _whump_ that collapses the hillock the entrance had been positioned in. Ice, rock, and bits of metal fly into the air, and the ground rocks beneath their feet as the rest of the C4 goes off. With that completed, Steve and Bucky board the quinjet and take off, heading back to New York. "Another base down," Steve says, satisfied. 

Bucky nods, peeling off his gloves. "You okay?" he asks.

"Mostly," Steve answers. 

"You want to talk about it?"

Steve sighs. "I know you're right, that we couldn't leave the other Soldiers for anyone to use, even if they could get into the base, but... I'm just not entirely comfortable with the fact that we killed them in their sleep."

"Would you rather we'd woken them up?" Bucky asks, not unkindly.

"Maybe if we could've done it one at a time?" Steve says, but it's reluctant. If these guys were as strong as Bucky said... 

"Even if they'd just woken up, they would have hurt us," Bucky says. "Maybe even killed us. I'm not going to put you in danger if I don't have to, and I'm not going to apologise for that."

"I'm not asking you to," Steve reassures Bucky. "And I know we didn't really have much other choice."

"I know it's hard," Bucky says, because he does. "But I think it was the kinder option, to all of us. This way no one had to suffer."

Steve nods. "I know. It'll take a while, but I'll be okay."

Bucky sighs, unconvinced, but lapses into silence.

* * *

They're only back at the Tower for a week before they leave again, this time for Wisconsin; Natasha and Clint have found evidence of another Hydra base, one supposedly established shortly after SHIELD was founded. They travel using public transportation this time, ending with renting a car to travel to the abandoned farmhouse that rested over the base. They find the entrance in the basement, and Steve can't help but snort at the clicheness of the false panel. "It's like they're straight out of a movie," he says with a slight grin, hefting his shield. "You ready?"

This time Bucky does have a gun in his hand, and he slips the safety off before turning to give Steve a smile that's almost feral. "If you are."

"Well, let's knock, then," Steve says with a grin. 

This base is definitely not abandoned, but the people inside never see them coming. As always, they hit hard and fast, and Bucky kills anyone who won't answer his questions without a second thought. When they're down to the last handful, Steve leaves him alone with them to search through the computers and paperwork, and Bucky decides to have some fun.

By the time Steve comes back, three of the four are dead, and the last one is crying out as Bucky slams his head into the floor. "Okay, okay!" he sobs. "I don't know much, just please, _don't kill me!_ "

"Depends what you know," Bucky snarls. "Talk."

"Camp Lehigh!" the man cries. "That's where our intel came from, our orders. Camp Lehigh, _please_ , that's all I--"

"Shut up," Bucky snaps. He looks up at Steve. "Why does that sound familiar?"

"Because that's where I trained," Steve says, his blood turning to ice in his veins; he's got a bad feeling about this. "What kind of intelligence did you get from there?"

"SHIELD," the guy chokes out. "Information about SHIELD. From the inside, they have a leak, I guess, I don't--"

Bucky cuts him off. "This guy doesn't know jack shit," he says, bored . "Can I shoot him?"

Steve nods, wincing slightly when Bucky doesn't hesitate. "Well, I guess we know where our next stop is."

"Yep," Bucky says. He holsters his gun, wipes his hands on his pants. "You got anything else you need?"

"Just need to finish scanning the files I found," Steve says. "Want to head straight over?"

"May as well," Bucky says. "Got nothin' better to do. Have you?"

"Nope," Steve answers. "Let me go pack up the scanner, then we can go."

Bucky sighs, looks down at the bodies at his feet one last time. "I'll meet you outside."

* * *

They leave Wisconsin and head straight for New Jersey; along the way, they call Natasha and learn that everything has been finalised for the attack on the Triskelion to dump all of Hydra's files on the Internet. It's good news, and Steve is feeling slightly optimistic by the time they hit New Jersey. They don't stop to sightsee, simply heading straight for Camp Lehigh. When they get there, Steve can't help but snort. "It's been seventy years, and this place hasn't changed much," he tells Bucky when the brunette casts him an inquisitive look. Something catches his eye, and he frowns. "Except that." 

'That' ends up being where SHIELD was first founded, and it's not hard to find the secret entrance. What _is_ hard is wrapping their heads around what they find behind it: an enormous room filled with nothing but memory banks for an older computer - and older computer that seems to run itself, judging by how it boots up as soon as Steve plugs in Tony's portable Jarvis program. 

Bucky frowns, looking at Steve. "That's not normal, right?"

Steve shakes his head. "Definitely not."

The monitor flares to life, and after sharing a glance with Steve, Bucky moves forward and types in the command that will hopefully get them in. A camera above them swivels in their direction, and Bucky freezes. "Steve..."

"I see it," Steve says, frowning as his grip on his shield's handle tightens. 

The screen flickers again, and then a face appears. "Captain Rogers, Sergeant Barnes," the face of a man long dead says, a smirk twisting his expression. "What a pleasure to see you two once more."

"What the fuck," Bucky hisses. "This isn't possible."

"I assure you, it is," Zola informs Bucky. "SHIELD recruited me during Operation Paperclip, shortly after the war. When I was given a terminal diagnosis, the decision was made to save my brain on over two thousand feet of data banks."

"And what?" Bucky spits. "You've been feeding Hydra ever since?"

"Precisely," Zola says, darkly satisfied. "Every one of your targets came from information that _I_ gave your handlers. I grew Hydra once more, a beautiful parasite inside of the organization that was trying to prove itself a protector."

" _Why?_ " The demands is ripped from Bucky's chest, and it's guttural, desperate. "Why did you do this to me?"

"Because you were the only one to survive the serum I created," Zola says simply. "I tested it on many of the other men from your unit, and you were the only one to survive it. I knew from the moment I saw Captain Rogers that Schmidt would fall, but I began planning the return of Hydra. And I knew to do that, I would need you - what I could mold you into. So the... 'Howlies' were allowed to learn of the journey I was taking by train, and I arranged for an exchange of sorts. Me, for Sergeant Barnes. One way or another, you would fall from the train, and my men would be waiting there to find you. My plan worked perfectly; if only Schmidt had listened more to me during the war, he would have won."

"You _bastard_ ," Steve hisses, unable to say anything else for the storm of emotions swirling through him, both his own and Bucky's.

"I assure you, Captain, my mother and father were married."

Bucky is beyond rational thought now; he just smashes his left fist into Zola's face, smashing the monitor.

Steve understands Bucky’s frustration, but breaking the monitor doesn't appear to do much good; Zola's face simply reappears in the one next to it, an unimpressed expression in place. "Really, Sergeant, what good did you expect that to do?"

"I expected it to get you the fuck out of my face," Bucky spits. "What are you trying to do, evil-monologue us to death?"

"No," Zola says, a smirk twisting his digital expression now. "I am stalling. You see, I sent out a message - a message requesting a strike on this location - "

One of the other monitors flickers, and another voice joins the conversation. "Yes, about that," Jarvis says. "I'm afraid I stopped that message. As well as any other communications you may have been sending. Captain Rogers, if you are ready, I can wipe this despicable being from its own hard drives; I've already made copies of any pertinent information."

" _What?_ " Zola shrieks, speakers crackling. 

Bucky doesn't react, doesn't hesitate in answering for Steve. "Do it, J."

"As you wish," Jarvis answers; Zola starts to say something, but his screen goes black almost immediately. All in all, it's rather anticlimactic; the memory banks stop whirring, the monitors all go dead, and then Jarvis announces, "Done."

"Thank you, Jarvis," Steve says, sighing. He turns to Bucky and asks, "You okay?"

"No," Bucky answers shortly. "You?"

"Not really," Steve admits. "Let's get out of here?"

"Yeah," Bucky says, his gaze lingering on the monitor he smashed. "Let's."

* * *

Natasha, Clint, and Fury pick up Steve and Bucky from Camp Lehigh on their way to the Triskelion in Washington, DC. It's a relatively short, quiet ride, and they manage to land just outside of the main meeting room at the top of the building with little fuss. Pierce is in the middle of a meeting with the rest of the World Security Council, and he's all smiles, the picture of politeness - until he spies Bucky lingering at the back of the group. As soon as surprised recognition dawns upon his face, Natasha is on him, rolling the other alpha to the ground and pinning him there as Clint cheerfully explains the plan to everyone present. Fury calls up the screen needed to start the information dump, and withe everyone in the room now glaring daggers at him - and more than a couple of weapons aimed his way - Pierce has no choice but to comply with the demand to complete the retinal scan.

He starts monologuing when Fury moves to the keyboard, keying in the commands for the data dump, and Steve finally loses his patience, gestures to Natasha, who smirks before hitting Pierce with one of her Widow's Bites - a mini, throwable taser that Tony had designed for her. The electrical shock is enough to knock Pierce out, and Steve knows from the demos and seeing them in action before that he won't be up for several hours. More than enough time to get him into a secure cell.

The data dump makes the five o'clock news, and the world launches into an uproar; no government is safe, nor is any government agency. SHIELD, being the overarching agency, had records of every Hydra personnel file, and there are Hydra agents in every part of the world. It's a massive witch hunt, and the media goes crazy with it all.

The Avengers have reconvened at the Tower to weather the storm, occasionally venturing out to take down those Hydra agents who don't go quietly, as well as the bases that decide the best defense is a good offense, and begin attacking the neighboring cities. It's after they're returned from one such mission in Sokovia and have all gathered in the communal kitchen, hunched over cups of coffee that Clint finally voices the thought on everyone's minds: "We're sure this was the right thing to do, right?"

"Of course we are," Tony says, dismissive. "World's a safer place and all that. What else could we have done?"

"Is it that much safer though? These bastards killed almost a quarter of the city's population before we could get there," Clint pointed out. 

Tony winces, but Natasha shakes her head. "They would have killed far more people in the long run if we'd left them alone," she says. "I'm not saying what happened in Sokovia wasn't awful, but..."

Clint sighs. "I know. It's just difficult, seeing those families..."

Steve lays a comforting hand on Clint's shoulder, squeezing slightly. "It is," he agrees. "It's always difficult, seeing those you can't help. But we helped far more people today than we failed."

"I agree that we didn't have a choice," Bruce says slowly, speaking for the first time since they left Sokovia. "But I hate that so many people are suffering because of what we did."

"Exactly," Clint agrees, and Steve nods, conceding the point; he doesn't like it any better, but he tries to focus on the positive as much as possible. 

They break it up not long after that, each wanting to be alone to deal with what's been happening in their own way. Just as Steve is reaching the elevator, Tony catches up with him, a hand on his shoulder. "Hey champ, you got a sec?"

Steve nods, stepping into the elevator and holding the door for Tony. "What's up?"

"Just do me a favour, would you, and tell your mate that I sent that video message for a reason," Tony says, looking extremely uncomfortable.

So much has happened since then that it takes Steve a moment to remember what Tony's talking about. "The one where you promised not to make his arm explode?"

"That's the one," Tony says with a sigh. "Look, I'm not saying I'm totally comfortable with him yet, but he doesn't have to take himself off to a dark and dingy corner when everyone's together. Especially not after something like that. We all need our time apart to process, but we need to come together too, y'know? We're a team, and he's a part of that." 

Steve's honestly surprised. "Are you sure? I don't even know if he'd want to be an Avenger, but he doesn't want to impose on you."

"It doesn't matter if he's an Avenger," Tony says. "He's important to you, and the others like him. Even I don't hate him."

"If you're sure," Steve says hesitantly. 

"I can't hold this over his head forever, can I?" Tony asks, defensive. "We've all done things we regret, things that have hurt other people. He wasn't even in the driver's seat when he did it."

Steve smiles slightly. "All right. I'll let him know. Thank you."

"You're welcome." The elevator stops, opens on Tony's floor, and he gets out. "See you later, Cap."

"See you, Tony," Steve says with a smile before the doors close and take him up to his floor. 

Bucky is waiting for him when he gets there, trying to look casual despite the fact that Steve can probably feel the low-level anxiety that's been itching at him for the past hour. Then again, given the sheer exhaustion coming off both of them in waves, maybe he can't. "Hey," he says. "The others okay?"

"Yeah," Steve says, moving forward until he can pull Bucky into his arms. "Bit of a crisis of faith, but otherwise fine. Tony stopped me on the elevator, though."

"Oh?" Bucky asks, pressing his nose into the side of Steve's neck.

"Yeah," Steve says quietly, just breathing in Bucky's scent for a moment. "Wanted me to tell you that you don't have to avoid him."

"I know," Bucky says. "It's just easier if I do."

"He doesn't think so. He thinks you're part of the team - and you're at least friends with most of the others. He said you shouldn't have to hide away."

Bucky sighs, pulls away. "I just don't want to make anyone uncomfortable."

Steve knows better than to try to hold Bucky close when he's pulling away. "He said he may not be the most comfortable, but he isn't going to hold something that happened when you weren't even in control over your head."

"Right," Bucky says, sighing. "And what do you think?"

"I think it'd be nice to hang out with all of our family," Steve says honestly. "I also think Tony's sincere when he says he doesn't blame you, or hold what happened against you."

"Okay," Bucky says. "No more hiding."

Steve smiles. "You don't have to go to every one, but maybe we can start with the next movie night? Something where we don't have to really talk a lot."

Bucky smiles back. "Sounds good."

* * *

It takes a good few months for things to quiet down, for the Avengers to stop being called out in the middle of the night to deal with one crisis or another; once the dust finally begins to settle, both Hydra and SHIELD have suffered a devastating, if not completely fatal, blow, and the world can breathe easy once more. Of course, the Avengers themselves aren't so lucky: they're mobbed by the press almost constantly, and if it's not questions about their motives for releasing SHIELD's information, it's demands to know what's going to happen to the Winter Soldier, whether he's in their custody or is a part of their team. It's getting to the point where most of the Avengers are only willing to leave the Tower under extreme duress.

Except for Steve, who will shout at reporters about Bucky until he's blue in the face, and who insists on going for his morning run every day, whether or not there are fifty journalists camped out across the street - like there are today.

"Captain Rogers! Captain Rogers!"

"What's next for the Avengers, Captain Rogers?"

"What's next for _you_?"

"Does the Winter Soldier have a place on the team? Will he fight by your side?"

"Is he _really_ your mate, Captain, or are you just trying to protect him?"

" _Why_ are you trying to protect him?"

It takes everything Steve has to restrain himself to the rehearsed answer he's been forcing himself to stick to as much as possible - albeit without much success in reining in the additional yelling when the journalists inevitably ask more insensitive questions. " _Bucky_ is my mate, he does fight by my side, but he does not want to officially be an Avenger," he snaps. "We're focusing on Hydra for now, and have no definite plans for the future." With that, he starts his jog; if anyone else is _that_ determined to get more answers, then they can try and keep up with a pissed-off supersoldier.

* * *

Steve has calmed down by the time he gets back to the Tower, but that doesn't mean he can hide it from Bucky. "What happened?" he asks almost as soon as Steve walks through the door. "Reporters on your back again?"

Steve grumbles under his breath, kicking his shoes off hard enough that if the walls were anything other than Stark tech, they'd have a couple of new dents. "Really nosy reporters, this time. A couple carpooled, drove beside me yelling questions until I turned into Central Park."

"What did they wanna know?" Bucky asks.

"Today it was mostly what our plans are - the Avengers and us, personally."

"Oh," Bucky says, his eyes wide. "What did you tell them?"

"That we were focusing on cleaning up this mess with Hydra for now," Steve answers. "We haven't exactly talked about the future."

"No," Bucky agrees, sighing. "I guess we haven't."

Steve chews on his lip for a moment before admitting, "We probably should."

"Yeah," Bucky says. He sounds sad. "It'll only make things awkward down the line if we find out we both want different things."

"Really awkward," Steve agrees. "But... I've been thinking. I don't want to keep doing this whole Avenging thing, not full time, at least."

Hope spikes through Bucky's chest like a lance. "Really?"

Steve nods. "I mean, if I'm needed, I'd go out, but I don't want to be constantly on call. That's never what I wanted, not really."

"I get that," Bucky says. "You're more than Captain America."

Steve nods, walking forward until he can reach out and take Bucky's hand in his. "I am. And one of those things I am is your mate."

Bucky makes a soft sound and pulls Steve in for a kiss. "I love that," he says. "I don't think I'll ever be used to it, but I love it."

Steve returns the kiss easily, pulls Bucky in for another. "I love it, too. And... It's just something to think about, but - I think I'd love being a parent, too."

Bucky freezes. "Steve," he says. "You know we can't..."

"There's always adoption," Steve points out. "And I'm not asking for it right away. Just to think about, for right now."

"I'd love to," Bucky says, "that hasn't changed. I just don't know what kind of father I'd be now."

Steve smiles, squeezes Bucky's hand. "Then we can wait, as long as you need to. For the record, I think you'd still make a good father."

"You would," Bucky says, looping his free arm around Steve's neck to keep him close. "I know you would." He closes his eyes, smiles softly. "I can see it. You'd be perfect."

Steve can't resist pressing a soft kiss to Bucky's brow. "So would you," he murmurs. "You care so much - you'd be a great father."

Bucky tilts his face so that Steve's next kiss lands on his lips. "I want that," he murmurs. "One day."

"One day," Steve agrees with a smile and a kiss. 

* * *

As it turns out, 'one day' could come a lot sooner than they expected. Just over two weeks later, Bucky wakes up _sweltering_ , his head foggy with the heat and the sheets damp with sweat and-- "Oh my god," he groans, reaching out with a clammy hand to push at Steve's shoulder. "Steve. _Steve_."

Steve wakes up almost immediately, but he blinks, disoriented. "Wha's goin' on?"

"Heat," Bucky gasps. "M'in heat."

Steve blinks again, then swears when he realizes _that's_ what the muggy feeling clouding his head is. "Shit, Bucky - you sure?" he asks, though he's already kicked the blankets off of the bed and is reaching for his mate. 

"Christ," Bucky groans, pushing himself into Steve's arms so he can steal a needy kiss. "S'been seventy years, but I-- there's nothin' else like this, Steve."

"No, there isn't," Steve agrees, giving Bucky another kiss. " _God,_ c'mere, let's get - clothes, off."

* * *

It takes four days for them to burn through the heat - namely because the night after Bucky starts his, Steve's starts as well. It's better than either of them can remember a heat ever being, and even when it's over they still don't leave their bed for another day. It's only after they've had their first - huge - meal after the heat that Steve breaks the unintentional silence that's fallen. "That was amazing," he says. "I'd almost forgotten what sharing a heat was like."

"It's been so long," Bucky agrees. He's still a little flushed. "I never thought I'd feel like that again."

"Well, you did," Steve says with a laugh. "Do - Do you want to again?"

Bucky laughs. "Don't think I have much choice, now that my biological clock is ticking again," he says. "But yeah. Yeah. Do you?"

"I do," Steve answers with a smile of his own. 

Bucky grins. "You know what this means."

"I'm pretty sure, but tell me anyway," Steve says, grinning. 

"If we can have heats, then we can get pregnant," Bucky says. "All we need is a willing alpha and we can start a family."

"Nat might be willing," Steve says thoughtfully. 

Bucky blinks. "You think so?"

"Yeah," Steve says thoughtfully. "I think she would. But that's all for the future; right now, it's enough to know that this is an option for us."

Bucky smiles. "You're right," he says. "Something to think about."

"Exactly," Steve says, scooting closer until he can pull Bucky into a kiss. "God, I love you."

"I love you, too," Bucky murmurs against Steve's lips. He's still smiling, his eyes closed. "We're gonna be okay, aren't we?"

"Yeah, I really think we will be."


End file.
